


Invisible Wounds

by LiamNeedsom



Series: A Good Man is Hard to Find [6]
Category: Scarecrow and Mrs. King
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-01
Updated: 2017-04-02
Packaged: 2018-10-13 17:17:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 33,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10518273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiamNeedsom/pseuds/LiamNeedsom
Summary: Amanda struggles when her past comes back to haunt her as she tries to hide her feelings for Lee. Little does she know, that problem goes both ways. Trigger warning for non con relationship.





	1. Trauma Department

All characters remain the property of their original creators. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

Amanda paused outside the hospital door and took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart before she went in. The last time she'd seen Francine, she'd been guns blazing following her out of that room in the Cumberland, screaming at her to get to the backup car. In all the times Lee had told her to stay in the car, it had never been in such a life or death situation. Francine had dropped all her princess attitude and ordered her to run – and she'd run. Oh yes, she'd run alright - right into the clutches of Karl Eagles, not knowing she'd left Francine wounded and at the mercies of that hitman. It hadn't been until they were back at the Agency finishing up her debrief that she'd realized what was bothering her – the absence of that one certainty in this job, that she'd be insulted by Francine when it was all over.

Even now, her stomach turned slightly at the memory; eyes sweeping the bullpen, asking where she was and watching Billy's eyes flick away from hers momentarily as if he couldn't meet them. She'd felt the blood rush from her head and had had to steady herself against a desk.

_She's dead, killed in the line of duty, killed saving_ _you_ _. First Lance, now Francine. It's all your fault_. She was certain that was what was coming next until she'd felt Lee's hands slide under her forearms, his voice forcing her to look up to meet his eyes, bright with concern. He'd known what she was thinking without asking. Of course he had – Lee Stetson had a master's degree in taking the blame for things.

"She's fine. She's down at Parker giving the staff hell but she's fine."

"She's in the hospital? Why is she there? What happened to her after I left her there?" Her voice had sounded shrill even to her own ears.

"You didn't _leave_ her there, Amanda – you followed orders and retreated." Trust Lee to answer the unasked question first. "She got shot in the leg and she's going to be on crutches for a while, but you know what she's like – crutches will be the season's hottest fashion accessory once she's done."

She'd looked into his eyes and seen the honesty there. He wasn't lying, he wasn't coddling her with a version she wanted to hear; he was telling her the bald truth for once, as if he'd known she needed to hear it, not some sort of placating story to make her feel better.

"I need to go see her. Is she allowed visitors?"

Lee had sighed and smiled, shaking his head. "You can go see her any time, but how about after you go home and get some rest? You've barely slept since yesterday – if you don't get some sleep, you'll end up in the hospital bed next to hers and you wouldn't want that, would you?"

She'd had to laugh at the ridiculousness of that but she hadn't agreed either. She _needed_ to see her, needed to see for herself that she was okay. It wasn't that she didn't believe Lee, it was just that she knew she wouldn't sleep anyway until she'd received whatever blast of sarcastic insult Francine was probably storing up for her because for some reason that would make it feel like it was really over.

_How do you know when it's over? When the mean lady sings!_ It was something she had to do, although he might not have understood. Okay, he'd have understood but he'd have disapproved.

So she'd promised Lee she was going home to sleep, grateful that he hadn't phrased it as he usually did – "Go straight home" – because then it wasn't really lying when she stopped to check on Francine on her way. As if he could talk – he hadn't slept either and she was pretty sure he was going to be at the Agency long after she left, tying up all the loose ends. She'd wanted to stay too but Billy had ordered her out.

"No Amanda, we have all the information we need from you today. You go home and come back tomorrow after a good night's sleep and we'll go back over your statement to see if there's anything we missed." His smile had been warm – she could almost believe he didn't blame her for any of it, even though everything that had gone wrong was obviously her fault.

She'd just nodded and made agreeing sounds – without a doubt he'd also have disapproved of this little side trip on her way home, but she was so tired she was past caring. After all, what was he going to do about it - arrest her? Somehow in the dizziness of fatigue she found herself laughing outside Francine's door at the mental image of her two choices: a hospital bed beside Francine or a jail cell beside Karl Eagles. She took another deep breath to control the incipient hysteria and pushed the door open slowly.

Francine, normally so much larger than life, looked so _tiny_ in a hospital bed. The room already had a few flower arrangements – bad news travelled fast in their circles – but Amanda hadn't bothered with anything as mundane as flowers. She paused, not certain all of a sudden whether this had been a good idea after all. She was probably the last person Francine wanted to see right now; she hovered in the open door, trying to decide what to do.

"What's the matter? You look like you're afraid I'm going to throw something at you," came a tart voice from across the room. Amanda couldn't help grinning with relief at the much-missed verbal tongue-lashing; suddenly Francine didn't look nearly as small as she had at first glance.

"Well if you were sleeping, I didn't want to disturb you," answered Amanda as she stepped into the room. "Besides I couldn't be sure if you were a subscriber to the Stetson School of patient behavior. I've never had to visit you in the hospital before."

"Believe me, as long as you're not a nurse with a needle, a thermometer, a blood pressure cuff, or any other instrument of torture, you're safe from me." Francine looked her over, not liking what she saw. Amanda's fair skin always made her seem pale but under the fluorescent lights, she looked almost grey. "But what are you doing here anyway? Shouldn't you be home recovering from last night too?"

Amanda gave a slight shrug and came to stand beside the bed. "I wanted to come make sure you were okay. Mother and the boys are still at my Aunt Edna's because I told them the house was getting gassed today, although I really don't know why I came up with such a stupid idea because the neighbors are going to tell Mother that the house never got tented – unless Mr. Melrose actually arranged for that to happen, I should probably check with him – anyway I'd be home alone and to be honest it's kind of freaking me out a bit so I thought I'd just keep moving until I get too tired not to sleep..."

"Amanda! Stop!" Francine's voice cut through the ramble like a sword. "Are you telling me you haven't been home or had any sleep since _yesterday_?" For the first time she took in the dark shadows under Amanda's eyes and the slight tremble in her hands. She'd known Amanda didn't look great when she came in but close up, now she saw all the signs of exhaustion. "No wonder you look like hell."

"Well, thank you so much," said Amanda in a teasing tone that didn't quite hide how tired she was. "But, um, yeah, I guess so. I mean, I dozed off and on last night when they had me locked up in the storage room at the factory but I've been at the Agency most of the day debriefing and then it seemed silly to go home and sleep in the middle of the afternoon. So I decided to come here and check on you after I ran a few errands – including this one." She reached into her shoulder bag and pulled something out.

As a distraction technique, it worked like a charm. Francine's eyes lit up at the sight of a golden box in Amanda's hands. "If those are what I think they are, Willy Wonka, you can come by any time!"

Amanda snorted indelicately. "What do you mean 'if those are what I think they are'? Come on, Francine, I know you can spot a DeVaronna box from a mile away with both eyes tied behind your back."

"That's a stomach-turning image," said Francine, holding out her hands eagerly. "But not enough that it will put me off having one of those right now. Gimme!"

"So you're feeling alright?" asked Amanda with an amused smile as she handed it over.

"Well, alright isn't the word I'd use," answered Francine, carefully perusing the box and plucking out a favorite. She bit into it, and a moan of delight escaped her. "But as gunshot wounds go, this one was one of the better ones I've had."

She looked up at the small sound of distress Amanda had just given out as she slumped into the chair beside Francine's hospital bed. "What's the matter?" she asked.

"This was one of your better gunshot wounds?" repeated Amanda, a look of complete incredulity on her face.

"Well, I mean, they're never fun, but this one didn't hit anything important, didn't leave any bits inside and I got medical attention pretty soon afterward, so… yeah. Not so bad," shrugged Francine.

She pretended to be carefully studying the box of chocolates so she didn't have to look at Amanda. Gunshot wounds were never 'not so bad' but there was no way she was telling Amanda that, especially when she looked this tired and stressed already. She never needed to know how excruciatingly painful it had been, or how Francine had been sure she was going to bleed to death in that dark room across the way because she couldn't get back up. Amanda didn't need to know what an overwhelming relief it had been to hear Lee breaking down the door to that room. She'd heard him calling her from the hallway and been too weak with blood loss to answer, but he'd followed the trail of blood and found her. She'd been able to hear the fear in his voice though as he'd cradled her in his arms, telling her she'd be okay, alternating it with yelling for help. He'd sounded so concerned for her that she'd assumed that Amanda was fine at first; it wasn't until she'd seen the look on his face when she'd asked that she realized she was wrong. She scowled down at the box – that shouldn't have happened either; she was the one who was supposed to be guarding Amanda.

"I'm so sorry," Amanda whispered wretchedly. "This is all my fault."

Francine looked up at her, eyes wide with disbelief. "Your fault? How do you figure that?"

"Because you were protecting me! If I hadn't gotten myself in the sights of those people, you never would have been there."

"Of course I would have been there, or if not me, someone else." said Francine. "Sooner or later, at some point, Eagles and his cronies would have screwed up and been caught. I mean, we'd already noticed how suspicious it was that all those traded agents were conveniently dying. You getting that hitman's paycheck just sped it all up a little."

"Lance died because of me though," Amanda went on. "If I'd just turned in that paycheck instead of letting Lee talk me into going to him, he'd still be alive and playing his silly little puzzle games. And that poor man at the vintage clothing store – he had nothing to do with it and he was almost killed just because I walked into his store!"

"You're kidding, right? Amanda, people were already dying – I mean they weren't nice guys, but they weren't supposed to die either. You can't take the blame for everything that goes wrong on a case – you'll make yourself crazy!"

"It just seems sometimes like I attract the bad luck," sighed Amanda. "But it's always other people that get hurt."

Francine shrugged. "People get hurt in this business, Amanda. It's just the way it goes."

"Don't you ever get tired of it?" Amanda found herself repeating the same question she'd asked Lee two days ago.

"I've had days I hated – days where I've been hurt, days where I've lost friends – like Andy – but it's a job that has to be done."

"That's what Lee says too." Amanda looked like there was more bothering her than just the events of the past few days – she looked like she had the weight of the world on her shoulders.

"Don't you think so? I mean, you almost died in a furnace today and a freezer a few months ago– why were you so keen to stick with it?" Francine offered her the chocolate box and Amanda took one absently.

"I told Lee that I wanted to make the world a better place."

Francine cocked her head and observed her. "And isn't that why?"

"Oh it is, but I wonder sometimes if I'm actually good at any of this. Maybe I should have tried some other way."

"What the hell is wrong with you today?" asked Francine curtly. "Why are you second guessing yourself at something you have a knack for? A weird knack, but still."

"I do?" Amanda stared at her, startled by what sounded _almost_ like a compliment.

Francine rolled her eyes. "Look, I'll admit when we first met, I thought you were just a ditzy housewife who'd seen too many spy movies but you proved me wrong even then. You saw things that an entire agency full of operatives had missed - and saved me and Lee in the process. People with way more experience than me all think you have something to offer: Billy, Harry Thornton, Emily – hell, even Rupert recognized you had something the first time he met you – they all see it, so I don't know why you're questioning it. And even more than that, you're a good person. Do you know how many genuinely good people I know? I could count them on one hand." She held up two fingers, and then after some thought, added a third and more slowly, a fourth. "Seriously."

Well, thank you," Amanda added. "I think," she added with a faint smile.

"You don't think I mean it?"

"No, I know you well enough to know you wouldn't say it if you didn't mean it, I just wonder... You know what? Never mind, I'm being silly and I shouldn't be bothering you with this, especially not when you have all this to deal with."

Francine sighed and put the chocolate box down so she could give Amanda her full attention. "Oh for Crissakes, Amanda. Spill it – you wonder what?"

Amanda met her eyes for a moment, then looked away out the window. "I wonder if being a good person is enough. If being a good person isn't actually a negative in this job. I wish I could be more like you." She looked back, seeing the little frown settling on Francine's face. "Oh that sounds wrong... I don't mean you're a bad person, or that Lee is, or that that's what makes you so good at this. It's just that I think I'm too weak sometimes."

"Are you serious?" Francine didn't think she was until she saw that faint shadow of sadness go across Amanda's face. "Why on earth would you think that? You've been through crazy things working with Lee and you stayed committed to this. You bounce back from things that would send seasoned agents into cardiac arrest and you do it with a smile on your face. That shows strength, not weakness." She could have stopped there but couldn't help herself from adding, "Either that or an almost unbelievable level of stupidity."

She thought Amanda would know she was teasing, and indeed, she did give the beginnings of a laugh but it had ended on a kind of choked-back sob. Amanda stood up abruptly, hand over her mouth, eyes shining with the slightest shimmer of tears.

"I should go. You need your rest," she gulped out and turned for the door.

"What I need is for you to sit your ass back down and tell me what the real problem is," snapped Francine, pointing at the vacated chair. "A few months back you were perfectly happy to use your dying breath to call me a witch, so you are not leaving here looking like that and leaving me to explain to Lee that I managed to make you cry!" Amanda still looked ready to flee. "Amanda! I can't chase you so you're just using an unfair advantage. A _good_ person wouldn't do that."

Amanda gave another half laugh-half sob and walked back to the chair, but didn't sit.

"It's nothing you did. I guess I'm a little freaked out by the whole thing. Those people thought they were the good guys too – they thought they were doing the right thing. They thought they were making the world a better place."

She began pacing, which Francine found funny for obvious reasons but didn't comment on, settling instead with replying, "And the difference between us and them, Amanda, is that we know they _weren't_. I still don't understand though why this is bothering you so much."

"It bothers me because…" Even Amanda seemed to be having a hard time figuring it out. "Because how do I tell the good guys from the bad guys when they all think they're good?"

"Amanda, that's nonsense, it's like your super power to understand people, to see the good or bad in people."

"No it isn't – I've gotten fooled plenty of times." She began ticking them off on her fingers. "Alan Squires, Peter Brackin, Sinclair…"

Francine lifted her own hand and mimicked her motions. "Sociopath, psychopath, lunatic. Amanda, everyone was fooled by those guys – and those were all a long time ago. You're not as naïve as you used to be, you've got much better skills now. And look at all the people you were right about when everyone else was wrong: Margaret Brock, Connie Barnhill… Lee."

Amanda stopped pacing and stared at her, eyes wide. "What do you mean, Lee?"

"Well, when he was pretending to be a burnout, you refused to believe it, didn't you? Not like me," she went on bitterly. "I'm so jaded I just accepted it as a fact of Agency life. But you didn't. In fact, it wasn't even just that case – he was a jerk to you when you first met – yes, I know, we both were – but you didn't seem to let it bother you, you just nice-d him until he turned back into the old Lee, the way he was before Andy died. And once you'd broken him in, you started in on me with your chocolates and your insults."

"Is nice a verb?" asked Amanda, distracted momentarily. "And how the heck do you nice someone with insults?"

"It is when it's done by you, and when you started insulting me, it was nice. It was like you'd stopped being nervous around me and relaxed enough to insult me like a friend. It made me feel like maybe it wasn't just the Lee and Amanda club."

"The what?" said Amanda in a stunned tone.

"The two of you – you've got some kind of connection – I don't know how to describe it. Lee and Andy were the same way, a sort of two halves of a whole thing, like they didn't need anyone else."

"Oh, I don't think so," spluttered Amanda. "I mean, from everything I've heard, they had a pretty special partnership – I don't think our friendship even comes close to that."

"It's different, of course, but it's the same in a lot of ways. You bring out the best in Lee, see things he doesn't, make him laugh the same way, laugh _at_ him the same way. But that's what I mean – he was turning into a not very nice guy by the time you met him and you rubbed off all the spiky bits."

"But isn't that a bad thing?" persisted Amanda. "Maybe what keeps him sharp in the field are those spiky bits, the distrust. What if that's what keeps him alive and someday something happens to him because he trusted me when he shouldn't have?"

Francine frowned and thought about that for a moment. She didn't think Amanda was right but she could see why she was thinking it. Finally she leaned back on her pillow and said, "Look, this is probably just the drugs talking but here's how I see it. When you two first met, Lee was all armor and spikes and you were all puppies and softness. But over the past three years, you've softened his worst edges and he's uncovered the armor you had under there all along. So you're both better – you balance each other out. He has his super powers, you have yours."

"But, what if my kryptonite is not seeing the bad in people until it's too late? What if I _am_ just stupid? About people, I mean? What if I'm too gullible?"

"No, you're not gullible, you're just optimistic. That's not a bad thing. We've got enough pessimists around already. If you only see the worst in people, what would be the point in this job? Who would you be doing it for, if you thought everyone was a dirtbag?"

"But what about when I don't see it in time? What about when I trust someone and I let them get close because they seem nice and I'm _wrong_? What about when I screw up a mission because when it turns out they're not nice, they've already gotten you drunk and ripped half your clothes off?" Amanda slapped her hand over her mouth as if she could haul the words back in by sheer force of will and where she'd been white before, now she was scarlet.

"Whoa," whispered Francine, all the brain fuzziness of the pain killers suddenly gone. "What are you talking about?"

Amanda didn't say anything, just stood there swaying, still with that _look_ on her face.

"Sit" ordered Francine, and waited for Amanda to obey. "Not Lee?"

"Of course not Lee!" The outrage Amanda managed to get into that answer was immensely reassuring, not just because it was what Francine wanted to hear but also because there was still enough strength in Amanda to fight.

"So who?" She narrowed her eyes. "Alan Chamberlain?"

"No, no, not him either," Amanda had gone back to an almost inaudible whisper but Francine could still tell she was telling the truth. "It was so much stupider than that, and so much longer ago. It shouldn't even still be bothering me."

"Was it on a case? Or something personal?" Amanda lifted her eyes in confusion and Francine shrugged. "We've all had bad dates – it doesn't have to happen at work to be bad, but I assume if it had been on a case, Lee would have killed someone so… Did you ever talk to someone about it?"

"No, I was too ashamed and there was all this other stuff going on, and Lee was already mad at me because I'd ended up in jail and…" she spread her hands and let her voice drift off.

"Byron Jordan? Good God, you didn't actually kill him, did you?"

"No, of course not." It was good to hear the slightest tremor of a laugh in Amanda's voice but it wasn't good enough when she was still sitting there shaking like a leaf.

"Do you want to tell me about it? It'll help – and I won't tell anyone else. Trust me, it's happened to all of us."

"Not like this it hasn't," said Amanda shaking her head. She took a deep breath and then paused for so long that Francine began to wonder if she was going to talk after all. "Do you remember when I went to Munich on that courier run and ended up being arrested for counterfeiting?"

"Who could forget? You're the only person in Agency history who brought down a crime ring just by going to deliver an envelope. Classic Amanda." This was accompanied by an encouraging smile and it did seem to calm her a little.

"Well, the thing is, I met someone there, just by accident, and we hit off, so we had dinner a few times and then one night, we had way too much wine at dinner and the next thing I know, I'm almost unconscious in a hotel room." Amanda stopped, not quite sure how to finish the story.

"Did he rape you?" asked Francine matter-of-factly. It seemed like keeping it as much like a regular debrief as possible would make it easier to get a straight answer.

"It was a she," said Amanda in a small voice and then found herself saying the one thing she'd never said out loud, not even to herself. "But yes, she did."

She looked up and met Francine's wide-eyed gaze. The shock she could see there brought back all the nausea of that night she'd stumbled out of Leslie's hotel room in Munich. Her entire body began to react, adrenaline and panic beginning to bubble up as the memories flooded back, overcoming the lies she'd told herself ever since that night – that it hadn't gotten any further than groping, that she'd woken up in time, that she'd fought back and stopped it in time… She could hear her own breath starting to come in gasps and worked to get a deep breath, to try and steady herself, to shove all that panic back into the box where she'd stuffed it for months along with the memories. She could see Francine still trying to process what she'd just said and clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms, the pain almost distracting her enough.

"It was a she," repeated Francine, slowly. "You're right – that's different. But not any less awful," she rushed to add. "No wonder you didn't talk to anybody."

Amanda shook her head. "I couldn't tell anyone –I almost screwed up the drop the next day because of it. And then I got arrested – and that was because of her too. The whole thing was just all jumbled up in a big mess."

"She got you arrested?" asked Francine, completely confused.

"She was the one who'd used the counterfeit bills at dinner, but I didn't figure that out until much later and by then she was long gone and Lee had arrived and he was so angry that I'd gotten arrested that I _couldn't_ tell him. And then the whole Harry thing happened and it seemed too late and then we got sent to London and I got accused of being Lord Bromfield's mistress and that almost screwed up another mission and by the time I got home, well really, who was I going to tell? And what difference would it have made?" Amanda finally ran out of breath, her dark eyes staring out into space through a sheen of tears.

"I wish you'd felt like you could tell me, but I guess back in those days, probably not, hmm?"

Amanda gave out a bitter laugh. "Do you remember Station One and how I could never do anything right that week?"

"Except catch the bad guys? Yeah, I remember."

"One of the reasons I didn't want to be around you was because that was right after it happened and you were wearing the same perfume as her – I had a panic attack every time you came close to me."

"Oh my God." Francine stared at her through narrowed eyes. "No wonder you were so nervous after I jumped you the first day."

"Yeah, it was pretty much downhill from there," agreed Amanda. She was already looking calmer, Francine thought. Talking about it was helping, but she couldn't believe Amanda had kept this bottled inside all this time.

"But you never went to talk to any of the Agency shrinks? Claudia Joyce would have helped you."

"I'm civilian auxiliary – it never occurred to me I could."

"Of course you could. You were on Agency business and besides, it affected your work."

"Too late now," shrugged Amanda. "I got over it."

"Did you? Doesn't look like it from here," said Francine as calmly as she could even though she was itching to shake some sense into her.

"Well, I thought I had, until I saw her again," said Amanda unthinkingly.

"What the hell?"

"She showed up in Washington last fall." Amanda paused, wondering if she should mention Leslie's connection to Lee and just as quickly abandoned that idea. "We met unexpectedly, she sort of threatened me to keep quiet about it and then she disappeared again." She stopped to think about that – Leslie really had appeared and disappeared very quickly in Lee's life. Much more quickly than he usually got rid of girlfriends, she thought, especially ones he was interested enough in to buy a dress for. _A dress that looked like mine_. Maybe he'd seen her true colors in some way? She couldn't have told him anything – he was still her friend and he wouldn't be if he knew the truth. A truth she'd just blurted out to the last person on earth she thought she'd ever tell.

"You should talk to someone," Francine was repeating. "Other than me," she forestalled the obvious interruption. "You should talk to someone who knows how to deal with this kind of stuff." She looked at Amanda speculatively. "And you should talk to Lee about it. I assume you haven't?"

Amanda's eyes widened with panic. "What? No! Why would I do that?"

"Because he's your friend," Francine began listing off the reasons. "Because you're his. Because it's obviously still bothering you in a way that might have an impact on the way you work together and as your partner, he has the right to know about stuff like that." She paused and studied Amanda. "Because if it's affected you this much, it must affect your relationship. If you haven't dealt with it, how do you not let it affect you when you're with him?"

"What do you mean?" Amanda looked honestly puzzled.

"Do I really have to spell it out?" asked Francine throwing up her hands in exasperation. "You were _raped_ , Amanda! How does that not seep into any physical relationship you're having with Lee?"

"What?!" Amanda had shot to her feet again and to Francine's surprise, she looked somewhere between shocked and horrified. "Lee and I are not in any kind of _relationship_ , physical or otherwise!"

Francine actually felt her jaw drop. "You aren't?"

"Why would you think that?" Amanda had gone back to pacing. "What have I ever done that would make you think that? Or do you think everyone just falls into bed with him like-"

"Like I did?" asked Francine, raising a brow.

It didn't seem possible for Amanda to look more flustered, but somehow she did. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it to sound like an accusation."

"It was a fair comment," said Francine with a shrug. "We were both in a bad place – it just sort of happened and we managed to stay friends. But that's neither here nor there, so come on, sit down. You're making me dizzy." She waited for Amanda to lower herself back into the chair, where she sat wringing her hands. Francine found that weirdly fascinating – she'd never seen anyone do that before in real life. "It's not such a weird thing for anyone to think, you know. Since Andy was killed, you're the only person he's allowed to get really close to him. The two of them were always joined at the hip like you two are. Not that anyone thought they were sleeping together of course," she added hurriedly as Amanda's eyes went wide. "But you know, Lee and a _woman_ – people are always going to assume… but you two really aren't…?"

"No!" exclaimed Amanda, shaking her head mentally that Francine really had never truly understood Lee's previous partnership. "We're really not. We're just friends, that's all. I'm not his type. He likes –" Her voice stumbled as she just stopped herself from saying _tall, dark and handsome_. "Well, you know what he likes - socialites and party girls who aren't looking for anything long term – not women like me with a mortgage and kids."

"Is he your type? I mean, if he asked…" queried Francine shrewdly, seeing the way Amanda was reacting.

Amanda gave a choked off laugh, "If he hasn't asked by now, he's never gonna ask." She looked up and met Francine's eyes. "What does it matter anyway? The point is, we're not involved." She paused, a sudden look of horror on her face. "Oh my gosh – do people think we are? At the Agency? Do other people think I'm sleeping with Lee?"

Francine looked at her in astonishment. "It's _Lee Stetson_. You're a woman who spends more time with him than anyone else on the planet – of _course_ people think that. Hell, I've been teasing you about being cozy with Lee for months! It's why I was bugging you so bad when you couldn't go to that tennis thing and have some time alone!"

"Oh my gosh." Amanda dropped her face in her hands. "I thought you were just being _you_!"

"Amanda… Amanda!" Francine was frustrated by her inability to move out of the bed and had to settle for yelling until Amanda finally looked up, eyes even more red-rimmed than when she'd walked in. She looked like she was about to cry again. "Amanda, it doesn't matter what people think – they've probably thought it for years and it's never mattered."

"But it's not true!" Amanda wailed. "And it _does_ matter! People I work with every day think I'm only working there because I'm sleeping with Lee!"

"Now hold on – I never said that," said Francine. "Everybody knows you do good work – you and Lee together do good work. It's just easy to assume that a good working relationship with Lee leads to -"

"Sleeping together," Amanda finished. "I can't believe I didn't see it." Her head shot up. "Does Billy think that?"

Francine gave the question some consideration. "No, actually, I don't think he does. I always put that down to him being a bit paternal where you two are concerned, but I should have known better. He understands Lee in a way the rest of us don't."

"Okay, good," Amanda sighed with relief. She wiped her eyes and stared at the ceiling, obviously still trying not to cry.

There was a long silence while Francine debated what to say. "Amanda, I don't think Billy would mind if you _were_ involved. I mean, it's pretty obvious you make Lee happy."

"Well he's my friend," said Amanda. "We have a good time together most of the time."

"No," said Francine more firmly. "You make him _happy_."

"Oh," said Amanda faintly, before shaking herself and going on more vehemently. "That's just because I'm his friend – he just doesn't have many of those, that's all."

Francine shook her head in disbelief. She just hoped she remembered all of this later when the drugs wore off because she was going to have to have a hell of a talk with Lee – but not about the biggest elephant in the room. That had to be up to Amanda.

"He doesn't have many friends because he chooses not to – but he chose you and I still think you should talk to him about what happened," she said finally. "Partners – no matter what kind – shouldn't have secrets."

That did make Amanda laugh. "Seriously? You think I need to share secrets with the world record holder for never sharing anything personal? What would that accomplish?"

"Does it make a difference when he does share things with you?" She could see from the expression on Amanda's face that she'd scored a point. "Well, there you go then. Now I don't mean you should rush off now with no sleep and blurt it all out. But you should tell him in your own time. Maybe talk to Claudia first. We can go together – I'm going to have to do the usual psych evaluation after a serious injury – you can tag along, make it look like you're just keeping me company."

"I could?" Amanda looked faintly surprised that she'd do that.

"I'm going to insist on it," answered Francine. She observed Amanda narrowly. "In fact, I think Billy will probably insist on it too, given what you've gone through in the last twenty-four hours. And if something else happens to come up in your session..." she shrugged, "Well nobody but you and Claudia need to know that, do they?"

"Thank you," Amanda whispered.

"You're welcome. Now have some chocolate – it'll make you feel better." She held out the DeVaronna box until Amanda smiled and took one.

"These were supposed to be for you," she scolded.

"I can't eat too many until I'm off these crutches," replied Francine. "You're helping me out."

"Hey Beautiful, how ya doing?" They both jumped at the sudden voice from the doorway. Lee was walking in with a large flower arrangement which kept him from seeing Amanda right away. "I guess I'm not the first person to think of this, huh?" He put the vase down among the others and turned around, a small frown settling on his face when he saw his partner. "Amanda, what are you doing here? I thought you'd gone home."

Amanda exchanged a quick look with Francine. "Nice to see you too, Lee," she said, trying to keep her tone light.

The frown shifted to become a slight scowl. "Don't give me that. You promised me and Billy you were going to get some rest."

Amanda hunched her shoulders defensively. "I'm fine. I wanted to see Francine and now I'm going home."

"You were supposed to go home three hours ago," Lee started to argue before Francine interrupted him.

"Mom! Dad! Can you guys please take this argument somewhere else? Amanda might not want to sleep but I do. I mean, thank you for the flowers, but how about you go make sure your partner gets home alright and you can come back and visit me later?" She stared at Lee steadily, willing him not to argue. He looked back at her, confused until her eyes flicked to Amanda, and he followed her gaze and really _looked_ at his partner, taking in the drawn face and the sunken eyes. He looked back at Francine who nodded toward the door.

"Okay," he capitulated immediately. "You're right – I should have remembered you'd be too tired for so many visitors. Gotta leave you some energy for when Beaman drops by," he teased.

"Ha ha. You're _so_ funny," smirked Francine.

Amanda had stood up and was swaying slightly. "I should get home. I'll see you tomorrow, Francine." She walked to the door and paused there, looking back. "Thank you – for everything."

Francine waved her off, waiting until the door had closed behind her to turn to Lee and say, "Go follow her home – she's too tired to be driving and she probably hasn't eaten either."

"Yeah, you're right. I'll drop back later, okay?" he answered.

"No, you're going to go home and sleep too," ordered Francine. "I bet you didn't sleep last night either, did you? In fact – ask Amanda if you can stay at her place. Pretend you're too tired to drive or something. She's freaked out but won't admit it and her family is still away until tomorrow."

Lee glanced at the door then back to his friend. "Really?" he said uncertainly. "She seems fine."

"Stetson, don't be an idiot. Now go look after your partner and don't come back until you've had a good night's sleep."

"Okay." He leaned over the bed and hugged her gently, kissing her forehead. "I'm really glad you're okay."

"Thank you. Now shoo – she's getting a head start on you!"

She watched as Lee hurried out of the room after Amanda and leaned back into the pillow with a sigh. "They're seriously not sleeping together," she told the ceiling tiles. "Un-frickin-believable."


	2. Home Care

Lee caught up with Amanda in the hallway, slipping his hand onto her back as she walked, turning to stare at her in confusion at the way her body stiffened at his touch.

"You okay, Partner?" he asked.

"Just tired," she answered in a short tone, softening the terseness with a small smile when she felt his hand shift further around her waist and tighten around her. "Lee, do you know if Mr. Melrose really had my house tented? Because if he didn't, the neighbors are gonna tell my mother, but if he did, I don't know if I can go home. Although I suppose it's not like they really did anything, so it would be safe to sleep there, I guess, just kinda dark but that won't be a problem until morning right? And I won't need to worry about Buck peeping in the windows, will I?"

Lee couldn't decide if she was babbling from sheer exhaustion or to hide something. "I'll follow you home and we'll find out together, okay?"

"You don't have to do that, you're just as tired as I am and if I get there and it's under a tent, I'll just find a hotel room or something."

"I could probably get you another room at the Cumberland if you need one," he teased. "Or you can come to my place."

"No!" She knew the minute his step hitched that she'd been too vehement.

"Amanda, it's okay," he said soothingly, bumping his hip against hers. "It was just a joke. Let's just go back to your house and take it from there, okay?"

"Okay," she sighed, surrendering to the concern in his voice. "That sounds nice."

Lee glanced back at the door to Francine's room and pursed his lips. She hadn't been kidding – Amanda was on the knife's edge and, he noticed suddenly, she was stumbling slightly as she walked.

"You shouldn't be driving – I'm going to drive you home," he said firmly.

"No, Lee, it's fine. I mean, my car is here," she protested, a little too faintly.

"We'll take your car and I'll cab back for mine later," he said, knowing that would be _much_ later. _Francine's right; I have to figure out a way to stay and keep an eye on her._

"Okay," she capitulated. _Maybe I can figure out a way to get him to stay so I don't have to be alone_.

The house wasn't tented but there was fake paperwork on the counter explaining that analysis showed the "termite infestation" had been limited to one part of the foundation and had been dealt with. Amanda had to smile when she saw the signature at the bottom, 'E. Beaman'. The Fabrications department had done a perfect job – her mother would believe it without question. She sagged with relief; it was so good to be home.

"Hey," said Lee's soft voice behind her. "How about you go change clothes and I'll cook you something to eat before you go to bed."

"Oh, you don't need to do that," she said.

"Have you eaten anything since we got back to the Agency this morning?" he asked with a knowing expression.

She had to think about that. "Yes," she said finally and watched his brow quirk up in disbelief. "I had some of Francine's chocolates."

"Amanda!" he groaned. "You're supposed to be the smart one in this relationship." He didn't know why her eyes shuttered at that but pressed on. "Trust me, if you don't eat now, you'll wake up in the middle of the night hungry and it'll be ten times worse. Besides, I'm hungry too – it's no trouble," he finished in the wheedling tone he knew she couldn't resist.

"Okay, okay, you're right. I'm going to go shower, but you don't need to cook – just order something," she sighed tiredly.

"I'll deal with it, just go." He turned her on the spot and gave her a slight push toward the stairs. He headed for the kitchen, certain that, even without having been able to go grocery shopping, she'd still have enough in the fridge for him to throw together an omelette, when he thought he heard her from the top of the steps.

"Don't leave me alone."

She was gone by the time he looked back.

* * *

"So what are you going to wear to your reunion?" he asked, watching her pick at the last few bites on her plate.

"Reunion?" she looked up confused.

Lee nodded to the fridge where the invitation was front and center, held up by a magnet. "It says you're supposed to dress up. And I'm pretty sure you didn't have time to find anything at that shop yesterday."

"Oh, I'd forgotten all about that," she replied. "It seems like a million years ago."

"High school?" Lee's grin was lazy and sweet and warmed her, even more than the simple dinner he'd thrown together despite her protests.

"No, yesterday." She lapsed back into silence again, staring at her plate and replaying her conversation with Francine in her head. Suddenly she felt her hand engulfed in Lee's warm fingers and looked up to see that his smile had been replaced with a look of concern. _You should talk to him, he's your friend_. Before she could act on that thought, though, Lee stood up and began to carry the plates to the sink.

"You should go get some sleep. You head upstairs and I'll tidy up, okay?"

"You don't need to do that," she protested.

"It's fine. I'll just do them while I wait for the cab," he said brightly, laying the trap he was pretty sure she couldn't avoid – and to his relief she didn't even try to.

She stood up and followed him to the sink, carrying their glasses. "Well, you're just as tired as me – do you want to stay here tonight?" She paused when she realized what that sounded like. "I mean, the place feels so empty with everyone gone and I mean, I'm not afraid or anything but…"

"It's okay, Amanda, I can stay if you want me to."

She smiled shyly at him. "That'd be nice."

There was a moment of silence and then they both smiled, hearing the echo of their conversation from the night before.

 _That was just last night_. _Less than 24 hours ago Lee and I were sitting in the Cumberland having a normal conversation just like this one._

_That was just last night. Less than 24 hours ago, I was staring at her and wondering if she had any idea how beautiful she is._

"Francine thinks I should have a session with Dr. Joyce," she found herself saying, flinching when she saw him scowl. "She wasn't saying it to be nasty – she was trying to help," she rushed to add.

Lee's shoulders sagged slightly as he answered. "No, no, I know that. I'm just mad I didn't think of it myself. I'll remind Billy to set something up when I see him tomorrow." He paused, then added, "You'll like her, she was my shrink after Andy was…" He glanced over to meet Amanda's look of concern. "She's one of the good ones."

_And I'll have a little chat with her ahead of time too – give her a bit of a heads-up._

He caught Amanda looking around as if she'd lost something. "What's the matter?"

"I didn't think... when I asked you to stay..." she was stumbling over her words.

"Where was I going to sleep? Well, that's not a problem, is it?" he asked and watched her face freeze into something he recognized with a flicker of alarm as her flight reflex - except why would she want to flee from _him_? "I'll just grab the pullout – I've done it before, right?"

She looked around the room, her exhaustion making her confused. "Yes, of course. I forgot." She shifted uneasily. "That's ok? I mean…"

"As I recall, it's a lot better than your garage," he teased. "And besides, if I'm down here, I can get out fast if your mother has a fight with her sister, or remembers she forgot something, or whatever it is that brings them home early, right?" He left it unsaid that he'd also be between her and anybody breaking in, but something in the way she sagged with relief made him think that was part of the problem. "I know my way around – you go to bed, okay?"

"Right," she mumbled. "Okay."

He watched her disappear up the stairs, then turned to quickly wash up the dishes for her. If her family really did come home early – and past experience made it seem likely – there couldn't be any evidence he'd ever been here. Even exhausted as he was, Lee couldn't go to sleep right away, instead moving quietly through the ground floor of the house for a few minutes, checking that all the windows and doors were locked. Amanda might like to sleep with the window open, but there was no way in hell he wasn't going to double-check everything to make sure she was safe. He huffed quietly to himself at the realization that the last time he'd wandered around her house like this, he'd thought Amanda was a double agent – and she'd come after him with a baseball bat.

_And I was lucky she didn't keep swinging after I told her why I was there._

Back in the family room now, he found himself in front of the bookshelf, taking this unusual opportunity of time to study the family photos that were so plentiful they almost completely hid the books behind them. School photos, team photos… all that was something regular people did. With only his uncle as family, there'd been no one to get those photos for in Lee's life. He wondered idly if there was any evidence of his existence in his uncle's quarters. _Probably not_.

His eye continued to skim the family photos – noticing for the first time that they included one from her wedding to Joe. He couldn't help the slight grimace that crossed his face looking at that one – he didn't dislike Joe but he'd be lying if he didn't admit to not liking him as much since Amanda had explained why her marriage had ended. He'd made her _cry_ – and knowing how much it took to make her do that – well, that was unforgiveable. Lee sighed as he looked at the happy couple on their wedding day – Joe looking at Amanda almost the same way he'd looked at her that day outside the boarding house - that look that said he'd come home.

 _He'll want her back_ said the voice in his head. _He'll want her back and she'll be tempted. She'll want the boys to have a happy childhood with a mom and dad like she did. She'll want to try again and fix what went wrong._

"Shut up," he said out loud to that little whisper, wincing at how his voice seemed to carry in the silent house.

His eye settled next on a snapshot of Amanda and her mother, both of them beaming at the camera, identical dark eyes sparkling with laughter, their affection for each other obvious in every bit of their body language. God, he envied her that – not just having had parents but the certainty of being loved. He'd had that - once that he could remember, once that he couldn't - but he'd lost it twice over and oh, how he longed for it again.

 _I think there's someone at work_.

Now that had been vintage Dotty – he'd spent the last two and a half years listening to her through the window, the matchmaking, the heavy hints – and Amanda had always just brushed them away as easily as water off a duck's back with a gentle "Oh Mother" in that quiet tone of reprimand that always defeated the maternal pressure. In the early days, he knew it was simply Amanda needing time to mourn her marriage, but since Dean, she'd rarely dated seriously in all the time he'd known her. He winced mentally - _Not since Munich._

Byron Jordan had come close, he thought – no matter how much she'd downplayed that in light of the events that followed, she might have started to open herself up again then, getting away from the Agency and the bad memories, – and where had that gotten her? Right back in another jail cell. It was no wonder she seemed to have given up dating after that, concentrating on her family and her job. He'd watched guys at work approach her – usually with one eye on him to see his reaction - but he'd also watched her turn aside any advance so deftly that they'd never realized how charmingly they'd been turned down. He could see the looks – he knew what people thought their relationship was – but he wondered if she was as oblivious as she seemed. She certainly seemed oblivious to his feelings for her; he'd dropped flirtatious hints to see how she'd respond, but her reaction was always the same: a fond smile, a laugh, a pat on the hand… like she was reassuring him that she was in on the joke, sometimes even flirting back the way she had that day she'd pretended to blackmail him with that embarrassing Christmas party photo. Despite her tactics, that dinner had been much like any other of their evenings out together: fun, relaxing, perfectly platonically unromantic. Lee sighed, puffing out a breath of frustration. As much of a relief as it had been to watch her start to shed the brittleness she'd had after Munich, he wouldn't give in to the temptation to make the first move, not with that lingering between them. He didn't know if she was even conscious of the way she still avoided dating, he just knew he couldn't bear it if any advance he made set off the flight reflex again. If he lost her friendship because he'd misjudged her feelings… He shook his head, no he couldn't take that chance.

He couldn't help his frustration though; he would swear Amanda knew him better than he knew himself most days, but in the most important way, she never looked past the protective Scarecrow shell he'd built.

_And whose fault is that?_

It had been so easy to let her step into that gap – confidante, partner… beard… But could there be more?

_I think there's somebody at work..._

It hadn't been all that different from anything Dotty usually said, but listening to her mother talk about her to someone else, that had flustered Amanda to no end, and as much as his heart had soared at the implication – even if it was just Dotty being her usual hopeful self – he'd felt a twinge of guilt. He'd put her in the position of spying on her mother and when he'd tried to tease her out of her discomfort with that misleading comment about marriage, he hadn't realized where Dotty was headed with it. Cringing at her mother's innuendoes was nothing new, but this had been a whole new level of embarrassment – he'd jiggled the buttons on the radio to make it sound like they were losing the connection so she could escape the car before it got worse.

He reached up to move one of the pictures so he could see the one behind, but managed to knock it instead, starting a domino effect of toppling frames, cascading off the shelf. He flailed, trying to catch as many as he could, but one of them hit the floor with a crash. He froze for a moment, holding his breath to try and hear if the noise had woken Amanda, but there was only silence. He carefully placed the pictures back on the shelf, and bent to pick up the other one. After carefully checking it for damage and to his great relief, finding none, he went to place it back in its spot, only then realizing it was that same photo of Amanda and her mother – so happy, so vibrant, so full of energy.

His brow furrowed as he thought how different she'd looked over dinner – drawn and grey with fatigue – not his Amanda at all. Something still niggled at him though, some vague worry about why she looked like she'd regretted asking him to stay. He was overcome with a pressing need to make sure she was really okay and slipped silently up the stairs. Her bedroom door was slightly ajar and he pushed it open, just enough to peek in.

Amanda was curled in a ball facing the door, already sound asleep and the worried frown starting to fade as she relaxed. He knew he was staring, just like he had at the Cumberland last night but this time he didn't stop himself from giving into the impulse; he stepped closer and leaned forward to brush a curl of hair off her face, then let his fingers trail along her cheek. She turned toward his touch and then, in that instant, her eyes opened and she looked straight at him. He froze, not sure how to explain his presence, and then she simply smiled and closed her eyes again, never having really woken up.

He was surprised at the overwhelming relief. _Whatever it is she's afraid of, it's not me_.

* * *

Amanda was woken by something in the dark of the early morning – a door opening or closing, she thought. Her heart pounded with fear as she lay still, straining to hear anything. The clock on her bedside table said it was 5:30 – too early for the newspaper boy, probably too late for any bad guys. It took her a few seconds to remember Lee was in the house and the rush of adrenaline caused by the fear subsided, replaced by a serene calm. She slipped out of bed and padded downstairs, only to find it empty, except for a folded up blanket, a pair of $20 bills and a note.

' _Called a cab while it was still dark so neighbors didn't see me. The money is for groceries before your mother and the boys get home. Don't come in today – we'll call if we need you.'_

She shook her head – how could he possibly have remembered after all this that she hadn't been paid yet? She picked up the blanket and held it to her face; it still held the scent of his cologne and she stood for a long moment, hugging it to her chest, struck by a sudden vivid memory of last night's dream of Lee standing in her bedroom, gazing down at her with warm eyes.

_Don't kid yourself, Amanda. Francine has got your brain scrambled with her stupid office gossip._

She sighed and took another deep breath, inhaling the lingering scent before finally wrapping it around herself and going back upstairs to bed.


	3. Visiting Hours

Jamie wandered through the kitchen, wrinkling his nose. "Boy, Mom, you can still smell that termite gas upstairs"

Amanda could barely hold in the grin as she ruffled his hair as he passed her. _Sniff this, you can still smell the tear gas…_ "Sweetheart, I'm sure that's your imagination."

With a good night's sleep under her belt and a drop-by visit to Sixties R Us to check on the clerk, she was feeling a million times better than she had the night before. She hadn't quite gathered up the courage to go visit Francine again today, still off kilter by having blurted out that confession to her and completely unable to imagine what she'd say to her next time she saw her. And yet, she'd been kind, much kinder than Amanda would have given her credit for, even if she'd seen elements of that softer side before.

_It's happened to all of us._

Why had it never occurred to her when Lee made those off-the-cuff remarks about the happy hooker routine, that some of those missions must have gone wrong, and from the sounds of it, more than once? Francine had been matter-of-fact about it, but she'd been kind, in a way that suggested she really _understood_.

_It's happened to all of us._

There weren't that many female agents, and not that many that got sent in the kind of situations Francine found herself in all the time. She herself certainly never got asked to do that kind of thing – well, except for James Delano, and look how that had turned out. No wonder they'd never asked her again.

She continued tidying up the kitchen, as the thought struck her that maybe that's what Francine had meant about her not being agent material all these years. Maybe, knowing what she must know about the dangers specific to women in this job, maybe that's why she'd always said Amanda wasn't cut out for it.

 _But last night, she said she thought you had a knack for it,_ said a reproachful voice in her head.

 _Yeah, but she also said she thought you were sleeping with Lee_ , came the annoying reply.

She shook her head, frowning slightly at the feeling of dread that went over her as she thought about having to go back to the office, knowing now that everyone thought that.

_All the reputation and none of the fun._

"I don't know why you're frowning quite so much, Amanda," her mother's voice suddenly cut into her thoughts. "It's a perfectly nice dress."

Amanda eyed the pink monstrosity Dotty was holding up, trying to find something nice to say about it before finally settling on, "Oh, I don't know, Mother. I'd feel silly."

"Well, you didn't seem to mind wearing something like that 15 years ago."

"Exactly, Mother, it was 15 years ago, and besides that, my dress was different. It had big blue patches on it. It made a statement."

Dotty rolled her eyes as she began to fold the dress back up. "Uh huh – a statement. I remember your flower child stage, Amanda, and the only statement you were making then was burning your-"

"Mother!" Amanda gestured to the boys who were still milling around collecting cookies and pouring glasses of milk.

Dotty stifled a smile and ushered the boys upstairs. She leaned back into the family room from the step and chuckled. "I'm just saying, Amanda, Neil Drexler is rich and still single and with the right outfit, I bet you could make quite an impression."

"Mother, I have no interest in making any kind of impression on Neil Drexler. I don't even think I'm going."

As Dotty vanished up the stairs laughing, Amanda heard a familiar rap on the back window. She turned and met Lee's eyes through the glass and caught her breath. In the dim light of the backyard, he looked much as he had the night before, the shadows falling on his cheek in a way that made him appear slightly unshaven. His expression was warm, he looked _… he looks like that dream you had of him being in your room last night_ came the unbidden thought.

Lee quirked up an eyebrow, obviously wondering why she wasn't coming out, and she broke free of her trance. With a quick glance to make sure her family had well and truly gone upstairs, she slipped out the door and found herself confronted with – a hippie.

"Hey baby, what's happening?" he greeted her with a grin.

It was simply not possible that he looked this _good_ in such a ridiculous outfit. She bit the inside of her cheek and hooked her thumbs in her pockets to try and keep him from seeing her reaction to it.

"Where'd you get the ancient threads?" she quipped, trying to keep it light.

Lee gave her one of his patented affronted looks –the one he had to know was almost irresistible. She gripped the towel in her hand a little tighter and tried not to sway toward him.

"I heard through the grapevine that you might be needing an escort to your reunion."

"The grapevine, huh? You mean when you were snooping around my kitchen last night."

"I wasn't snooping," he said, virtuously. "It was right up there on your fridge."

She had to laugh then, even as she eyed him up and down. He'd really gone all out on this – he must have gone back to that store because there was no way Lee had owned anything like this at the time.

"Oh, no, I'm not gonna go to the reunion," she answered, reaching out absentmindedly to straighten the peace badge on his beaded necklace. "I'm not gonna go," she repeated firmly, interrupting his protests.

Lee crouched down slightly, trying to get her to look at him "Come on. You should get to enjoy a night with your friends! Let's go. We'll make the perfect couple."

 _The perfect couple. There's already a whole office that think we're the perfect couple_ , she thought followed by the sudden thought, _Well then, why not? Why the heck shouldn't I get to enjoy that? Except…_

"OK, thanks. Yeah," she said out loud, absurdly tickled at how pleased he looked at having convinced her. "Give me fifteen minutes to figure out what to tell my mother and I'll meet you over on Howard Street."

"Tell her you've decided to try and find a date for Valentine's Day," he teased. "She'll push you out the door."

She was still laughing as she headed back inside, but found herself asking, "I really don't need to find a date for that, do I? Something's bound to come up at work." She glanced over her shoulder and paused, struck by the look on his face.

" _The way he looks at you, the way he smiles at you – you're special to him."_

As she watched, the smile got a little deeper, a little more- well she wanted to say giddy but she knew she was just projecting her own emotions now.

"No, you don't," he replied firmly. "I can guarantee you'll be busy that night."

_Oh my gosh._

* * *

She drove around the block and pulled in to park directly behind the Corvette where Lee was waiting. She got out, locked her car door, and then slipped into the passenger door he was holding open for her. Once he'd walked around and settled into the driver's seat, he reached to turn the key, then stopped as he took her outfit in properly.

"What are you wearing?" The confusion was evident in his voice.

"What do you care?" she couldn't resist replying, then watched as the memories caught up with him and he began to laugh.

"You're such a comedian, Mrs. King. But seriously," he gestured towards her patchwork jeans and peasant top. "Wasn't that a dress you and your mother were discussing for the reunion?"

"It was," she agreed. "But first of all, I actually spent much more time in stuff like this back in the old days and secondly, we're not going to the reunion."

"What? Amanda, you said you wanted to go! You got this far, you can't chicken out now."

"I never said I _wanted_ to go, and it's not because I'm chicken. Well, it is, a bit, but not for the reason you think." She grinned at his exasperated expression and started to explain. "Now look, you probably haven't been to one of these, but I'll tell you what they're like. Everyone stands around making polite chit-chat and asking each other what they've been up to and the men all try and one-up each other about how successful they've been and the women all compare notes on how much their husbands make and how great their kids are and wait for someone to walk away to discuss what plastic surgery they think she's had or if her marriage is in trouble. Okay? So how am I supposed to have any fun spending an evening telling even more lies about what I do all day?"

"Well, that's why you have your standard IFF cover story," he began.

"Lee, that's for when I'm working. I don't want my reunion to be nothing but lying to people for no good reason – it's a recipe for a horrible evening."

"So you don't want to go out tonight?" He sounded surprisingly disappointed – Amanda couldn't believe he could sound like he'd been looking forward to an evening with "regular" people.

"Well, I don't want to go the reunion, but there's no reason we can't go out. Let's just go do something we did back in the old days when we were kids, like go to the drive-in for dinner, hang out with friends… You know, just be ourselves for once."

He was quiet for a moment, mulling that over. "You really don't want to go?" he asked finally.

"Not to the reunion, no," she repeated.

"Okay," he capitulated. "So where _do_ you want to go?"

"Well, let's start with Milo's and take it from there," she grinned at him.

"Milo's? Seriously? I mean, even dressed like this, I'm sure I can find us somewhere nicer for dinner than that!"

"Don't worry – we won't be eating there," she answered cryptically. "Now come on, let's get going before the Neighborhood Watch comes by!"

Lee rolled his eyes and turned over the ignition. Thirty minutes later, he was rolling his eyes again as a giggling Amanda shushed him and motioned him down the hallway.

"I can't believe you talked me into this," he hissed at her. "I am never going to live down this outfit!"

Amanda stifled her laughter. "Hey – if we'd gone to the reunion, there'd be photographic evidence – so just count your blessings!" She pointed again. "Okay, there's no one around – scoot!"

He bent low and scuttled down the hallway, praying no one would appear before they reached their intended goal, Amanda right behind him, hand on his back, just as if they were somewhere dangerous. He reached the target and slipped inside, checking to make sure the coast was clear before straightening up and letting Amanda slide in the door behind him. He peered through the dim light, wondering not for the first time if this wasn't a bad idea.

"Holy crap," said a confused voice. "They were right, the brown acid _was_ bad." They approached the bed slowly, while Francine watched them, sleepily. She closed her eyes again, obviously certain that she'd imagined them under the influence of her pain drugs.

"Francine! Wake up! We brought you dinner!" chortled Amanda, holding up the brown paper bag.

Francine's eyes flew open again, now on full alert. "Jesus! I thought I was seeing things!" She struggled to push herself upright, gasping with pain as she did so, which sent Amanda racing forward to help her. Francine actually looked penitent as Amanda scolded her, waiting until the bed had been propped up and Amanda had put pillows behind her to ask "Why on earth are you dressed like that?"

"We're undercover," Lee quipped immediately.

"As what? The Carpenters?" Francine shot back without even pausing for breath. "Because may I remind you, you two _suck_ at playing brother-sister covers. You guys came off less Bobbsey Twins and more Flowers in the Attic."

Lee looked to Amanda, completely confused by the reference but Amanda just beamed at her as she began dragging chairs closer to the bed and emptying the bag of takeout onto the rolling table. "Now I know you're feeling better!"

"Well, you are too, from the looks of it," remarked Francine glancing back and forth between her two friends. They looked exactly as they always did – perfectly comfortable in each other's company, relaxed and smiling, working together to set up the surprise dinner as if they'd done it a million times.

 _Like an old married couple_ she thought, shaking her head with a quick smile. If she didn't know that Amanda had been too emotionally wrecked yesterday to lie about anything, she'd be reconsidering that denial about their relationship. Her smile vanished as she remembered everything else Amanda had told her during that outburst. She looked up and realized Lee was watching her, concern on his face.

"Sorry, just achy from being stuck in this bed all day," she lied.

"Better than the alternative," he answered, reciting the age old toast of agents after an injury.

"Better than the alternative," she echoed, nodding. "Oh my God, did you bring me Milo's?" Her eyes widened appreciatively as Amanda began unwrapping the burritos they'd brought.

"Nothing but the best," answered Amanda, passing her a loaded plate. "Helping him avoid hospital food is just about the only thing I've found that keeps Lee sane when he's in here. And I really did want to say thank you properly – I don't think I said it yesterday before Lee showed up and made me go home." She gave him a small smile that said he'd been forgiven.

"First chocolates, now this. You're trying to kill me," jibed Francine. "And I'll die happy," she added quickly, realizing Amanda might not find that joke funny just yet. She picked up the stuffed wrap and bit into it with a groan of delight. "I love you," she managed to get out around the mouthful of food.

Amana looked at Lee with a raised brow.

"Don't worry – she means the burrito," he said consolingly, and Francine nodded vehemently in agreement.

"So why _are_ you dressed up?" she asked finally, after a few more mouthfuls and after Lee and Amanda had settled in with their own. "Or should I say dressed down? You look like refugees from 'Easy Rider'."

Lee glanced at Amanda before answering for both of them. "I tried to get her to go to her reunion but for some reason, she decided this would be a better party."

Francine arched a questioning brow at Amanda who shrugged and elaborated, "I thought you'd like some distraction and nobody there will miss me. Besides, I'd rather spend the evening dodging nurses than spend it dodging questions from old friends."

"Well, you're doing a terrible job dodging nurses," said an unexpected voice. Three pairs of eyes swivelled guiltily to where the night shift nurse was standing in the doorway, tapping her foot. She surveyed the three of them, frozen in place before finally breaking into a grin. "Don't mind me," she continued, walking in with a wink. "I've seen you people in here way too often to think you're going to obey a single rule. I'm just glad it's not the big guy this time – he's the _worst_."

"Hi Jane," said Lee, meekly.

"Hi Lee," she answered, plucking a fry out of his order as she passed him, and blowing him a kiss. After a quick glance at the IV that dangled beside the bed, and making a few notes on her chart, she was on her way again, stopping at the door to wave a warning finger. "One hour – no more. She's supposed to be resting."

"Yes Ma'am," the trio chorused, every face the picture of innocence.

As soon as the door had swung shut, Francine put down the burrito. "Okay, tell me everything that happened."

It was Lee who took the lead – even Amanda hadn't heard the whole story of how they'd found her after making a deal with the devil – although he left out the part about Billy agreeing to the bribe. He knew she'd just fret over that, although he'd have agreed to ten times that amount to get her back safely. Besides, it wasn't as if Jepard was going to get any of that money.

"So is Jepard still alive?" asked Francine shrewdly as if she could read his mind.

"For now," said Lee in a disgusted tone. "But his injuries are critical – he won't make it out of the hospital, let alone out of the country."

The two women exchanged glances of relief that spoke volumes about how well they knew Lee. If Jepard was still alive, it meant Lee wouldn't be facing Internal Affairs later for anything other than the standard report on the deadly use of a firearm.

"You can both stop with those looks," said Lee. "I never touched him – and even if I had, even Internal Affairs would have looked the other way after everything he'd done. For crying out loud – he shot an agent and abetted kidnapping another!"

"Maybe he'll live long enough for me to have a crack at him then," said Francine lightly. "He's going to end up costing me a fortune in getting my clothes retailored. I have a whole rack of dresses with slits up the side that I'm not going to be able to wear again with the scar from this one."

"Not a problem," answered Amanda, completely deadpan. "I still have a $100,000 paycheck to deposit. With that kind of money we can bedazzle your crutches as well."


	4. Feed a Fever

They'd stayed past the allotted one hour Jane had given them, of course, but not by much because Francine's eyes kept drifting closed, exhausted by the injury and woozy from the medications. Since it was still far too early to go home without raising Dotty's suspicions, Amanda suggested pie and coffee at a diner she knew about in Rosslyn.

It had become so easy, spending time like together, so different from when they'd first met and spent their time squabbling over how to decorate a kitchen or other things 'regular' people do. Lee had to shake his head and laugh thinking about it; from the first day he'd met her, Amanda had never failed to call him on the more ridiculous things in his life, the things he'd let take over and substitute for life when he couldn't cope with the grief.

_These people are your friends?_

She'd been wary that first day – and rightfully so, given the way he'd popped up in her life so bizarrely but even then, the skeptical look she'd given him hadn't hidden the laugh in her eyes. He'd looked around at the people at that party – the crazy costumes, the vapid expressions – he'd seen what she'd seen and grimaced inwardly but that day he thought he'd never see her again, so he'd just nodded and taken her by the arm to lead her further down the rabbit hole. Boy, if he'd known then what he knew now…

"Nice place," he commented as they slid into a booth opposite each other. "They don't make 'em like this anymore."

"Yeah," she agreed.

"Amanda?" The waitress had appeared at their booth. "I thought it was you. Long time, no see."

"Hi Eileen. Yeah, I don't get to this part of town as much as I used to." Amanda's smile didn't quite reach her eyes, but only Lee would have noticed.

"What can I get you? You still like apple pie?"

"Fancy you remembering that." Amanda's smile was a little brighter now but Lee could still sense something was off. "Yes please, and a decaf coffee."

"And you must be that long-lost husband she used to tell us about, back from Africa at last! What can I get you?"

"I'll have the same," Lee smiled at the pretty brunette without bothering to correct her. Eileen smiled back at him and whisked away to get their order.

He turned back to look at Amanda who was idly shredding a napkin and staring at the table. She sensed his gaze and looked up to meet the concerned look in his eyes.

"I used to come here a lot," she explained. "The AIDS hospice –J.C.'s hospice – it's just down the road from here and I used to come and you know, change gears before going home to the boys."

"Oh!" he said with sudden understanding. "Bad memories."

"Oh no, not really. I mean, actually this was kind of an oasis back then, you know? Nobody knew me here except as Apple Pie Amanda. Eileen has a little boy the same age as Jamie – we used to talk about them and commiserate about normal every day stuff." She stopped again, staring at the shredded napkin. "It was my place to be normal. I had to be cheerful for J.C, and then I'd have to go home and act like nothing was wrong for Phillip and Jamie, but nobody but me and Mother knew what was really going on. I couldn't talk about it with my friends or the neighbors, or Joe. It was like this huge dark secret hanging over me."

"That's why you hate lying to your mother," he stated, grimly.

"Yeah," she smiled softly at him. "I've always known why I needed to, and it's for a good reason, but it's why I hate to do it – we've always been each other's secret keepers. Anyway, this place was where I was just normal Amanda with two little boys. No secrets, no lies, just half an hour of pie and no thinking about anything."

"And that's why you didn't want to go to the reunion tonight," he said. "When you said you didn't want to spend the night lying to people, that's why." When she nodded, he went on, "Why didn't you ever tell me how much you hate it?"

She reached out and laid her hand over his. "Oh Lee, I don't _hate_ it exactly. I mean, I do, but I know it's for a good reason, that it's important that she doesn't know what I do. But I didn't want to spend an evening with people lying for no reason – it's exhausting and I would have had a horrible time."

"Well, I'd have been with you," he said defensively. "Wouldn't that have made it better?"

She squeezed his hand and smiled warmly at him. "That would have been the only part that was good," before adding more seriously, "Lee, if you'd had a reunion before…" She paused, looking for the right words. "You know… before… would you have had any fun if you'd had to go without Andy? Spending the whole time lying to people about the best part of your life when you could have just stayed home with him and not been on edge all night?"

She could see when it clicked for him, what she meant about how tiring it was for her too, this life of covers, secrets, half-truths… lies.

"I guess not," he said finally, but then went on, still protesting, "But it's not the same! Nobody would have thought twice about you showing up with me!"

"Not that part, no, but I don't want to have to lie about you and pretend I'm dating some mediocre government film producer when I'm obviously capable of doing so much better." She patted his hand to show she was teasing and waited until he smiled back. "And," she went on firmly, "I'd have had to worry about how it was going to get back to my mother about how I showed up at the reunion with a ridiculously handsome date that she knew nothing about."

"Well, I can see where that would be a problem," he agreed, grinning.

"And besides, Francine needed the company," she went on. "I don't think she has many real friends other than you and Billy."

"And you," said Lee.

"And me," agreed Amanda. "But that's a pretty recent development. I don't think she'd consider me part of her inner circle. "

"Really?" Lee was honestly surprised. "I think she does."

Amanda tilted her head and considered that, considered everything Francine had said yesterday in the aftermath of the secret she'd blurted out. "Yeah, maybe she does," she said finally. "She did share her chocolate with me."

"Ah well, there's your proof," Lee smiled. "You know her biggest secrets, you must be her friend."

"Is that what makes someone a friend? Knowing their secrets?" asked Amanda.

"Well, you know most of mine and we're still friends," he joked, until he saw the fretful furrow in her brow. He twisted his hand to lace his fingers with hers. "But that's not what I meant. You know them because she told you – and if she trusts you, you're her friend. Francine is a complicated woman but that's a simple fact."

Amanda stared at the way his fingers were intertwined with hers, his thumb moving in a lazy circle across the top of hers. They'd come such a long way, the two of them, from those early days when she'd still distrusted his motives; since then, those hands had reached out to save her, to comfort her, to soothe her more times than she could count.

"Do you think…" she began slowly, before pausing to gather her thoughts. His fingers tightened slightly as if to encourage her. "Do you think we'd stop being friends if we kept things from each other?"

Lee's free hand reached out to seize her other hand. "Amanda," he said, then again more firmly until she looked up. "Amanda, there is _nothing_ you could tell me that would change how I feel about you." He held his breath, willing her silently to confide in him.

 _How I feel about you_? Amanda searched his eyes, distracted momentarily as she so often was by how expressive they were and right now they were bright with concern and something else she couldn't read.

 _Partners shouldn't have secrets_.

"Lee, I –"

"Aw, aren't you two cute, still holding hands like newlyweds! Sorry that took so long. I had to brew a new pot," said Eileen, cheerfully, placing coffee cups at their elbows, followed by the plates of pie. "I threw some ice cream on there, free of charge since it took so long. I know you always used to get it with ice cream when you were having a bad day," she rattled on, completely oblivious to the mood she'd broken at the table. "You have any pictures of your boys? It's been forever since you've been in and shown me any! They must be so big now!"

Lee leaned back with a sigh and picked up his fork, stabbing at the pie with a resigned expression.


	5. A Spoonful of Sugar

"You did not!" Lee was laughing so hard he was almost falling out of his chair, but the note of admiration in his voice was unmistakable nonetheless.

"I did! And Billy backed me up," said Amanda in a virtuous tone that was completely undermined by the grin on her face.

"With a straight face?" spluttered Lee.

"Yes – but not for long," admitted Amanda.

It was the second night in a row he'd gotten to have dinner with Amanda; she'd actually shown up with the promised homemade soup the night before, along with a bag of grapes. " _Food for invalids_ ," she'd quipped when he'd groaned. It hadn't just been soup, of course – it had been a soup so thick with meat and vegetables that it was almost a stew, along with bread fresh from a bakery – " _I didn't have time to make any_ " – and a Tupperware container full of cookies – " _I already had those made"_ – of course she did.

He'd put up a token protest that she hadn't needed to bother, not really, and she'd simply laughed and said it was no trouble.

" _You know I wouldn't be able to look Billy in the face tomorrow if I hadn't followed orders. Besides, Mother knew I was with someone at the hospital the last couple of days, so she didn't even blink when I said I was dropping by to check on you."_

" _You're not staying?"_

_He hadn't even bothered to hide the disappointment in his voice. He'd been away from home for almost two weeks and they'd barely talked properly, what with being tossed headlong into the hunt for the Barnstorm list._

_Her smile had lit up the room. "Well, of course, I'll stay if you want me to. I thought maybe you'd want to rest though. You haven't really yet, have you?" She'd given him that look then, that one that said she was scolding him and laughing at him at the same time._

" _A change is as good as a rest, Amanda. And it'll be a restful change to just sit quietly for once, won't it?" he'd wheedled, pleased when she'd laughed and pulled off her coat._

Despite her promise to Billy, the next morning she'd only dropped in long enough to help him put his case notes in order and help him fill in some of the blanks, before offering to take them into the Agency for him.

"I thought I was your assignment?" he'd teased her.

"Billy says that but I still had a desk full of work when I left to pick you up at the airport and I haven't been back since. At the very least, I need to make sure that's being looked after."

"So I won't see you until tomorrow?"

"Oh no, I'll be back to bring you some dinner. I don't trust you not to try and survive on moldy cheese and stale crackers."

"Well, you'd be half right. There's still leftover bread from last night." He'd grinned at the laugh she gave off. "But I don't want to distract you from your family."

"Oh, that's no problem. The boys are on Spring Break and they've gone skiing with their dad."

"Skiing, huh? That sounds like fun."

She could read the slight question in his voice with no difficulty whatsoever. "Oh yeah, Joe's still sucking up to them big time." She shrugged and looked away. "I'm just glad they're all getting along so well. Jamie can hold a grudge pretty well but Joe's winning him over."

"He wants a dad," said Lee quietly. "He's lucky he has such a good one."

Amanda looked at him for a moment, then nodded. "You're right," she answered and he wasn't entirely sure if she was agreeing with both things or not.

She'd returned in time for dinner, bringing everything for a simple home-cooked meal and several weeks' worth of office gossip, culminating in the story she had just begun to tell now, impish smile on her face as if she was just bursting to share it with him.

"Tell me the full version," begged Lee. "I can't believe I missed all the fun."

"I went in to deliver your notes to him, and Francine came into his office while I was there. Well, you know what she's like, so instead of just asking how you were, she made some crack about how nice it must be to have been promoted so that I could boss you around. So I just said, 'Yes that's right, I'm an AO-16 this week, so if you could just be a dear and file these for me, that would be lovely. And maybe a cup of coffee while I chat with Billy?' And then Billy said 'Yes, Francine, you know how I like it, cream, two sugars – and why don't you get one for yourself and come back and join us? I need you to take some dictation.'"

"What did she do?" asked Lee in awe-tinged tones.

"She puffed up like an angry kitten and was just getting ready to blast both of us when Billy couldn't hold it in any longer and started to laugh, which set me off – and that was as long as it lasted really."

"And then what happened?"

"Honestly? She went and got us all coffee and settled in to hear how badly behaved you've been."

Lee put a hand over his heart and put on a hurt expression. "You wound me to the quick. And here I thought I'd been the perfect patient."

"Well, you're a better patient these days." She smiled shyly at him.

"Maybe I'm just enjoying a better nurse," Lee's eyes were bright and warm and… she put that thought firmly aside.

"What?" he asked playfully, noticing the sudden flush in her cheeks.

"Oh, I was just thinking you have nice eyes," said Amanda without thinking.

"Well, I'm just glad I still have them, thanks to you," he answered, toasting her with his water glass.

"I didn't do much," she shrugged. "The car did most of the work."

"Amanda, don't sell yourself short," he scolded her. "You showed great instincts through this whole thing."

"Not really, you made most of the connections on your own this time," she said lightly. "I just followed you around and mothered you into getting your rest."

There was a moment of silence as they both recalled him telling her he didn't need mothering, before he gave a light laugh and said "Well, God knows I needed it. I wasn't behaving very sensibly – as usual."

Amanda didn't say anything, but her lips twitched as she gazed at him across the table. He _had_ been even more than his usual childish self, but she had to give him credit, it had had everything to do with him wanting to protect his 'family' and not his usual grumpiness at being incapacitated.

And Francine really had been quite sweet this morning – in a Francine kind of way – offering to come by and do some relief babysitting, even if she had ruined the effect of the offer by immediately asking Billy if she could get a promotion out of it too. And she still owed her for that 'cozy' crack the other night in Lee's bedroom; she'd known the second Francine walked in that she was re-evaluating the conversation they'd shared in her hospital room. Fortunately, exhausted and easily baited, Lee had missed the wry smile she'd given Francine at her jab, too busy responding to it himself with annoyance.

" _You can just never resist, can you?" she'd scolded her later when Lee was asleep and they were alone in the kitchen, Francine watching Amanda efficiently making coffee for the horde of people in the living room._

" _Oh, you know it's irresistible, Amanda. He rises to the fly every damn time – how can I not?"_

" _Well, could you try not to until he's feeling better? He's already not doing himself any favors worrying about that list when that concussion is making him cross-eyed."_

_Francine had actually, momentarily, looked a tiny bit ashamed of herself before rallying. "Okay, Mom, I'll leave him alone." She fell silent for a moment before asking, "How's he doing really? I can't believe you actually got him to lie down."_

" _It wasn't easy, but we mothers have our ways. Hopefully he'll actually get some rest - he's really worried about his contacts." Amanda had held out a cup to her, but she'd waved it off._

" _No thanks, I just wanted to check and make sure you were okay before I left."_

" _If_ I'm _okay? Why wouldn't I be okay?"_

" _Because everyone else is conveniently forgetting that you just spent the night sleeping on a very small bench in Lee's room. Did you even get yourself checked out after the car crash or were you too busy worrying about Lee?" She gave her a pointed look as Amanda flushed guiltily. "That's what I thought. You need to look after yourself too, you know, not just your boyfriend."_

" _Francine! He is_ _not_ _my - " She caught the knowing smile too late and let her shoulders sag. "Point taken."_

" _Good – now I need to get these back to the Agency and see what the hell they are." She jiggled the small bottle with the mystery pills in it, with a scowl._

"Oh my gosh – did you take your medicine?" she asked, jumping up from the table and heading for the counter where the pill bottles were stacked.

"Amanda!" Lee groaned. "They leave such a bad taste in my mouth!"

"I'll take that as a 'no' then," she replied, pouring the antibiotics out into her palm.

Despite his grumbling, Lee took the pills she brought back, washing them down with the glass of water she'd filled at the sink. "You're really letting this 'senior agent' thing go to your head," he muttered. He looked up to see her observing him carefully. "Yes, I really took them this time," he said, holding up his hands to show they were empty.

If he wasn't so attuned to the way her eyes reflected her mood, he might have missed the shadow that crossed them, and he frowned, wondering what had caused it. She picked up the glass and headed back toward the kitchen, not having responded to his joke. He stood up and followed her, concerned about the sudden mood change.

"You doing okay?" he asked casually.

"I'm fine. Why do you ask?" she replied, her light tone sounding slightly forced.

"You just seem distracted," he answered, trying not to sound concerned.

She didn't answer at first, opening the pill jar and emptying the pills into her hand.

"You know I just took one of those right?" he asked, wondering what she was doing. Amanda stared at the contents of her hand for another few seconds before carefully scooping them back into the bottle and snapping the lid shut.

"Yes, I know," she said. "I was just double checking that there was still the right number in there."

"Checking I didn't skip the morning ones when you weren't here to check up on me?" he teased.

"No, checking that you hadn't taken the evening ones already and forgotten," she answered in a terse voice, leaning with both hands on the counter

Lee had to laugh a little at that. "Have you forgotten who you're dealing with, Mrs. King? You really think I'd forget already taking them when you know I only take meds under duress at the best of times?"

She glanced up quickly at him, then back down at her hands. "Or when I tell you to," she answered.

_Bingo_

He leaned back on the counter and ducked his head slightly, trying to get her to meet his eyes. "Amanda," he sighed. "It's not your fault I almost took those pills from the hospital."

"No it's my fault you _didn't_ take them," she said. "If I'd known you were going to be sneaky, I would have tried harder to catch you at it, and then you really would have taken them and then-" she caught her breath, stopping in mid-ramble unable to go on.

"Amanda! Stop! Nothing about that was your fault. Anyone would have done the same. If I'd stayed at the hospital like I was supposed to, one of the nurses probably would have made me take them."

"No they wouldn't have," she said colorlessly. "Because they would have had the sense to check your chart before handing you any medication."

"Well then, I would-"

"No, you wouldn't have taken them if you'd found them there," she interrupted. "You would have flushed them down the toilet or something, but you wouldn't have taken them!"

He couldn't actually argue with her on that point – he'd seen them on the hospital table while he was getting ready to sneak out and had ignored them.

"Amanda," he began again and watched her shoulders sag. "Amanda, you can't worry about things that didn't happen."

"Why not?" she almost whispered her reply.

"Because you'll make yourself crazy. We spend our days trying to prevent bad things that might happen, right? That's being proactive. Worrying about things afterward where nothing went wrong is just a waste of energy."

She did turn to look at him then, eyes searching his expression.

"When I was growing up, my friend Barney used to tell me 'never trouble trouble 'til trouble troubles you'. I didn't take the pills, nothing bad happened, you won't do that again, right? So, why go looking for trouble where there isn't any?"

She pushed the dirty dishes around in the sink and sighed. "You're right," she admitted.

"And since I'm stuck on rest duty and you're stuck on babysitting duty for the rest of the week, that's three more days where nothing can go wrong." He knew he'd gotten through to her, when she made a quiet scoffing noise.

"Nothing can go wrong? Like that'll happen," she muttered but he could hear the smile was back in her voice.

"You never know – miracles can happen," he said solemnly, before tugging her out of the kitchen. "Okay," he said coaxingly, "I've taken my medicine like a good boy and behaved all day. So come and tell me a bedtime story or something."

"You don't like being mothered," she said as she let him lead her back to the living room and curl up in an armchair.

He heard the lingering hurt in the flatness of her voice and knew he was the cause.

" _I do_ _not_ _need to be mothered_ ," he'd complained to her in his bedroom that night, his pounding head and exhaustion making him speak more sharply than he'd ever meant to, then reaching out in panic when her face had shown the hurt and she'd gone to leave.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean that."

"Yeah, you did," she shrugged. "You withdraw when you're not feeling well. You needed to work, you didn't need me to worry about you."

"Yeah, I did," he said, reaching over from his spot on the couch to lay his hand over hers for a moment. "Need you to worry about me, I mean. And I did appreciate what you were trying to do, you know. Just like I appreciate the dinner and the company tonight. It was just, well... you caught me at a bad moment."

"I have that knack, don't I?" she said wryly. "Especially since I'm the cause of most of them."

"Amanda!" he started to protest before he saw the half-smile flit across her lips. "Not _most_ of them," he changed tack, hoping to tease her out of this odd mood. Her eyes flew up to meet his, wide with surprise, then crinkling with humor when she saw his answering smile.

"I really am sorry," he said earnestly. "I was just worried about my contacts. Lana and Sally were both panicking and I was boxing against shadows, you know?" Amanda was nodding; this was something she understood. "I didn't know who had the list, I couldn't be sure who was on the list, or how fast they'd act – and even if I'd known all those things, I didn't know who'd betrayed us…"

"Do you know now?" she asked, watching him with concern.

"Yeah," he sighed sadly. "It was pretty easy to narrow down when he'd left himself off the list." He sat back against the sofa cushions, staring up on the ceiling. "It was one of my old German contacts. We'd been introduced by Harry – Hollinger, not Thornton," he added at her questioning look.

"Oh," she said, nodding again. He could see the understanding dawning in her eyes. "And when Harry went to jail and you were the reason why…"

"That was the end of that little gravy train and he didn't trust me enough to contact me for help."

"Dumb guy," she commented, a note of scorn in her voice. Lee looked at her inquiringly and she went on. "Harry was always going to be a bad bet – anyone with sense could see that. If he trusted Harry, but not you, well, he's gotta be a dumb guy."

Lee sighed. "Well, dumb or not, he had just enough information to decide his retirement to the Caribbean could be funded with the list."

"He could have done a lot of damage," she said.

"They're civilians, Amanda, they're helpless against the kind of attack that could have been coming their way. They're not trained, they're not agents - they're just people who want to help make a better world." He knew without looking that she was thinking about their conversation at the Cumberland too. "They're my family and they're-"

"They're your Achilles heel," she said.

"What?" His head snapped toward her.

"Oh, not in a bad way," she said. "But it's like you said the other day – you'd do anything to protect them, and then you did, even when you could barely look after yourself."

"It's my job, Amanda!" he protested.

"Lee, sweetheart, I know that – that's not what I meant. Of course that's your job – nobody knows that better than I do." He was certain she hadn't even noticed using the endearment as she rushed to explain. "And you're good at it – I mean, look at all the things you've ended up having to save me from when I do stuff without you to back me up. I lose microdots at laundromats, I end up in jail for murder or counterfeiting…" her voice faltered for a beat - "Anyway, that's not what I'm saying. You're protective of people you care about and sometimes it means you don't think straight and someday someone's going to take advantage of that. From what you told me, Brody wanted that list just because it was yours."

"Yeah," Lee sighed. "Neumann was convinced I had some names on that list that weren't just civilians that he could use but Brody was doubling down, knowing I'd come after him."

"That's what I mean," Amanda was nodding at him. "He knew there'd be bidders for any info that could be used to draw you out into the open. Your family might be a secret but the fact that you'd do anything to protect them isn't."

"So what are you saying? That they're a weakness and I shouldn't care about them?" he asked in an outraged voice.

"Of course not," she replied. "I would never say that! What I am saying is that you need to remember that you're not Superman but that instinct is your kryptonite. You were injured, you weren't thinking clearly, Billy had given you all those resources to take the weight off you – and you were still trying to do everything by yourself as if everything was your fault."

"It was my fault! They were in danger because they were loyal to me!"

"Not all of them," she reminded him.

"No, not all of them," he acknowledged. "But most of them are -"

"Worth a walk through a blizzard at midnight," she finished. She got up and came to sit beside him on the couch, taking one of his hands between hers. "Now look, you know I've been seeing Dr. Joyce right? Since that whole thing with… Karl Eagles." She took a deep breath and waited for him to nod. "And we've been talking a lot about blame. About how to not take blame for things that aren't your fault – and it's not your fault that one desperate man gave into his demons and sold that list."

"Amanda King, are you seriously giving me the same lecture I gave you fifteen minutes ago?"

Amanda stared at him wordlessly for a minute, then nodded. "I guess I am," she agreed. "Maybe we're more alike than you think. Apparently I also have a 'predisposition to internalize blame'."

"Well I'd disagree with you but the next words out of your mouth would be 'pot, kettle, black'," he said, tapping his chest.

"Two of a kind," Amanda agreed, her expression lightening ever so slightly.


	6. Light Sensitivity

It was the second full day of Lee's enforced rest and he was lying on the sofa thanking God for Billy Melrose's idea to saddle him with Amanda as his boss for the week. He knew Billy had added in her temporary promotion as a bit of a humorous rebuke for his hospital break-out but of course, Amanda hadn't let him off the hook, taking the whole thing a shade too seriously. That whole thing with the pills last night, scolding him like he was one of her boys and not a grown man... But today - well today he had to admit that Amanda's quiet determination to act as his personal prison warden was a blessing.

He'd slept in and been woken by the searing pain of a migraine headache. He'd slowly become aware of a noise that was penetrating the pain, a repetitive knocking sound that wouldn't let him fall back asleep and then he'd realized he could hear Amanda's voice calling his name with increasing urgency. The last thing he'd wanted right then was to pull himself upright out of the bed and the second last thing was to have to talk to anybody, not even Amanda, but he'd known she wouldn't give up until he answered her.

He'd dragged himself to the door, fighting the nausea the whole way, fumbling with the locks, until he'd finally managed to get the door open and squint at his partner, standing in the hallway, holding a grocery bag in one arm. He'd braced himself for chatter, but instead of her usual cheerful good morning, she'd simply looked him over with a furrowed brow as he swayed, gripping the door for balance.

"Oh no. Come on, Honey," she'd said, much as she had that day months before in the bowling alley when he'd been freaking out over Operation Possum. She'd steered him into the kitchen, dropped the bag on the counter and started sorting through the pill bottles they'd left out the night before. "Okay, so you haven't taken the antibiotic yet this morning but what about the pain reliever?" she'd asked.

He'd made a disgusted expression – he didn't like the feeling they gave him, like his brain was furry around the edges.

"You'll be better with them," she'd answered simply as if he'd actually spoken. "It's written all over your face, Lee. Your pupils are like pinpricks, you're grey under your tan and you're sweating in a room that's only 68 degrees. Now these are just extra-strength pain relief with a bit of codeine. No addiction, no fuzzy head." She held them out and waited for him to take them. "You know all I have to do is tell Billy you're still not fit and he'll make this last longer," she threatened.

He'd wanted to glare at her but it had made his head hurt so he'd finally swallowed them, gracelessly obeying when she'd said "Drink the whole glass – you need to stay hydrated. Now don't worry, concussions sometimes just get bad again if you don't look after them right the first time which you definitely didn't – but you'll start feeling better soon. You just need to rest properly." Then, instead of continuing to bother him, she had simply turned to the grocery bag and started to empty it out. "Okay, now shoo. I have some baking I was going to do here anyway and get something going for you for dinner tonight. You go lie down. Pull the curtains – you'll feel better in the dark."

He'd stood in the doorway, unable to come to a decision about where to go. He had thought it would be annoying to have Amanda hovering like a mother hen, but now that she was ignoring him, he couldn't help feeling a little hurt. He wandered over to the coffee table and picked up the remote to flip on the television, only to hear her call out from the kitchen, "No TV! It's bad for the concussion!"

He hunched defensively and ignored her, only to have her appear beside him, and take the remote out of his hand and turn it off herself. "Come on," she said gently, pushing him back onto the sofa. "Lie down," she ordered. She pulled the curtains closed, then moved to the shelf of records by his turntable, flipping through them until she found what she was looking for. Lee lay down on the sofa, placing himself so that he could still see at least some of the kitchen and tried to relax. A few seconds later, the sounds of Bach filled the apartment.

"No Verdi," he heard her soft chuckle as she threw a blanket over him as she passed him on her way back to the kitchen. "Opera's not good for a headache," she'd murmured. "All that wailing and crying is way too stressful."

He knew he'd drifted off at some point, waking to find his head was pounding less and that Amanda must have flipped the album to the other side while he slept. He let the music wash over him, listening to the sounds of her puttering, humming quietly along with the string section as she moved around. He could smell something delicious and tested the concept of eating in his head, comforted that his stomach didn't turn over at the thought the way it had when he'd woken up this morning. In fact, quite the opposite, he was ravenously hungry. He sat up, shifting slightly so that he could watch her. She had that intent look on her face, the one she got when she was concentrating on a file, biting her lip occasionally and pushing her hair off her face with the back of her hand. She had a smudge of something on her cheek and even from here he could see the curve of her lashes as she looked down at the counter at whatever she was working on.

He found himself wondering what people back at the Agency thought about her absence from the office, about this assignment. It was pretty unlikely that anyone pictured this: him dozing on the couch while she baked cookies for her kids. No, he knew that, safe from being overheard by either of them, the innuendoes would be flying – unless, of course, Francine stepped in, in her new self-appointed role as Amanda's protector. She'd given him an earful while he'd been driving her home from the hospital, making it clear that Amanda had in fact had no idea at all what most people thought their relationship was, and that he should have been doing a better job of stamping out the rumors. He hadn't thought Amanda was that innocent, had thought she'd simply been as content as he was to just ignore the jokes but apparently she'd actually been virtually unaware, safe in the self-deprecating certainty that she was so obviously not his type that it was impossible for anyone to make that assumption.

" _You're supposed to be her friend!" Francine had snapped at him. "Why would you let people think that if it wasn't true?"_

_He'd gaped at her, startled by both the unexpected attack and the source before turning his eyes back to the road. "What makes you think it isn't true?" he'd fallen back on the old standby of trying to throw her off base with outlandish comments about Amanda._

" _Lee! It's not funny!" He glanced sideways, surprised by the vehemence of her anger with him. "She sees you as some sort of white knight and you're not living up to your side of the bargain!"_

" _Well it's not like I'm the one spreading those rumors," he tried to defend himself. "I can't help it if people are just naturally inclined to think the worst."_

" _Oh, like you think it's the worst for people to think she's sleeping with you? Gimme a break – it's a big boost to your ego for people to think she only has eyes for you. You know half the guys in the office have asked her out and been told no."_

" _That's not true! The ego thing, I mean – and anyway, how is it my fault if she doesn't want to date? It's not like she doesn't know what I'm like."_

" _Oh yes, she's perfectly aware she's not your type," Francine spat at him. "And God knows why she'd want you anyway when your boots have been under every bimbo's bed in town – but letting people talk like that is just letting them make her look dumb – and you know better than most, that's not true."_

" _I don't know why you're so high and mighty about this," he went on the attack. "You've been making those same cracks for years."_

" _And you never said anything to stop me, did you?" she shot back. "Oh no, you were perfectly happy to make comments about the stamina of the average housewife with the best of us."_

_He winced, remembering that particular joke, made back long before he'd even started to become friends with Amanda. "Fine," he replied finally. "And how exactly do I put a stop to the rumors now without making it look like either I dumped her or that she's been living a crazy housewife fantasy for the last two and half years? No one's going to believe any kind of denial anyway."_

_Francine glared at him, then slumped back in the passenger seat, grunting in annoyance. "I don't know," she said. "Look all I'm saying is, she's paid a pretty steep price trying to be a good partner to you – and it's about time you started making good on that debt."_

_By that time, they'd pulled up outside Francine's condo and he was helping her out of the car._

" _What brought all this on anyway?" he'd asked her. "You've always been the first to complain that Amanda's too soft for this business because people should stand on their own two feet and not rely on anyone!" and watched an odd expression flit across her face so quickly that he thought he might have imagined it._

" _She grew on me," Francine shrugged. "She's tougher than she looks – and she brings me chocolate and burritos – what's not to like?"_

_His uneasiness hadn't lessened with her flippant answer. What had happened between the two of them that had Francine making such a 180?_

" _That's it? A few boxes of truffles and you're suddenly her biggest champion?" he asked, watching her through narrowed eyes._

" _Someone has to be," she practically hissed at him, snatching her crutches out of his hand and hobbling toward her front door. "It sucks enough to be a woman in this job and prove yourself every day without also having to deal with crap alone."_

" _What kind of crap? What has she said to you?" He was certain now that Francine knew more than she was letting on, especially when she didn't answer, too busy making a show of hunting for her keys and unlocking the door to meet his eyes._

" _Look," she said finally, "I'm not saying you're to blame exactly – but you need to step up and look after her better. She's better at shielding you from stuff she's had to deal with than you realize and she shouldn't have to do it all by herself. I told her she should book some time with Claudia – you need to make sure she does."_

_He felt like he'd been punched in the stomach, certain now that Amanda had let slip something to Francine that she was still keeping from him. Rationally he could understand why – that it might have been easier to tell a woman, even if it was Francine - but emotionally, it was still a kick in the gut. He looked up to meet icy blue eyes surveying him._

" _Understood," he answered and she'd nodded with satisfaction, before reaching out to pat his cheek._

" _Don't worry, Stetson, you can't be that much of a brainless Scarecrow. You got Amanda to stick with you despite everything, that's gotta mean something."_

_That's gotta mean something._

Amanda turned her head, as if she'd suddenly felt his gaze and met his eyes, face lighting up with an easy smile that made his heart flip. "Hey there," she said, reaching to pick something up off the counter and walk toward him. "I was just getting ready to wake you. I made you lunch – you probably didn't eat any breakfast did you?"

He shook his head, remembering too late that moving his head was a bad idea, relieved when it didn't make the room spin as badly as it had earlier. She perched on the sofa beside him, placing a plate with an egg salad sandwich and a glass of milk in front of him before turning to study his face, nodding with whatever she saw or didn't see there.

"Feeling better?" she asked, not in the least perturbed when he just nodded and didn't speak. "Mother's recipe," she went on, gesturing at the sandwich. "The secret ingredient is watercress. Makes it kind of peppery. I think you'll like it."

He leaned forward and picked it up, biting into the cool filling and feeling the tingle on his tongue she'd warned him about. It seemed familiar and comforting somehow and he couldn't think why until she added, "It's a British thing apparently – Mother read somewhere that the Queen won't eat egg salad without it, so of course we had to try it. I thought your mom probably would have made it that way too."

He nodded, mouth too full of sandwich to do anything else.

"Good," she said, smiling warmly at him. "Okay, I'm going to go finish the batch of cookies I've got on the go for my book club meeting tonight." She paused and studied his face, reaching out to rest her hand against his forehead with a thoughtful expression. "I was going to suggest going out for some fresh air, but it's really sunny and I don't think you should chance it just yet. Your eyes still look funny."

Even just the idea of going out into bright light made him blench so she patted him on the arm and got up. "That's what I thought. You finish your lunch and I'll finish in the kitchen and we'll just do something quiet, okay?"

He didn't know how Amanda knew exactly what to do with someone with a concussion, but it was incredibly restful the way she was just _there_. He finished the sandwich and drained the glass of milk, already feeling the relief of a full stomach and leaned back to rest his head against the sofa cushions, watching her continue to move around the kitchen, stirring something on the stove, leaning down to pull the cookies out. The mouth-watering smell hit him afresh and he had just enough energy to wonder if she was going to be taking _all_ the cookies with her when she left tonight for that meeting.

He closed his eyes slowly, to take in a deep breath, and when he opened them again, the light had shifted direction somehow and Amanda was no longer in his sightline. Confused, he turned his head and found her curled up at the opposite end of the sofa, reading.

"Welcome back." Her dark eyes were somehow shining even in the dim light. The curtains were still drawn, but the shadows told him at least an hour had passed. "You really needed that. Never thought I'd see the day you'd sleep through me bringing you cookies." She nodded to the plate on the coffee table. "I'll get you some more milk. You're not drinking enough with all this sleep." She went to the kitchen, returning with a brimming glass and a pill that she put beside the plate. "You can have another Tylenol if you need one, but your color is better. You're probably going through caffeine withdrawal too, but coffee isn't good for you right now so you're just going to have to survive."

He took the glass meekly and swallowed the pill, then picked up a pair of cookies, aware that she was settling back into the corner of the sofa.

"I found your stash of Louis L'Amour," she confided. "My dad used to read these all the time but we gave them all to the hospice after J.C. died so it's been ages since I picked one up. I'm guessing this is your favorite since it's the most bent out of shape. Although I guess it could have been Andy's – he was a Texas boy, wasn't he?" She held up a battered copy of _The Tall Stranger_. "Anyway, you shouldn't be reading yet, but I figure you can just lie there and listen, if you'd like? You did ask for a story last night after all."

He liked the way she was teasing him so gently, like she knew he couldn't get his mind together enough to defend himself.

She settled back against the cushions and began to read out loud quietly, her soft slight Southern drawl matching the cadence of the text perfectly. " _With slow, ponderously rhythmical steps the oxen moved, each step a pause and an effort, each movement a deadening drag…"_

Ironically, that was exactly how he was feeling himself. Lee felt his eyes drift shut, as the familiar story and the much loved voice washed over him like warmth.

* * *

"Okay, there's stew and biscuits on the stove and promise me you won't forget to take your antibiotics with it because it needs to go with food. I wish I didn't have this meeting tonight but I promised to bring the cookies and I can't miss it. I'm taking your keys so I can let myself in in the morning so you don't have to get up just to open the door if you're still asleep. Also, I don't trust you not to decide you can drive or something dumb." She waved his key ring at him as she put on her coat. "So don't go out and forget that you can't get back in. Or if you do, at least keep a dime in your pocket so you can call me for help. Now have I forgotten anything or do you need anything else before I go?" He shook his head and she turned to leave. "Okay, see you in the morning, Junior Agent," she chuckled.

"Amanda?" he cleared his throat, amazed at how gravelly his voice sounded. "Thank you for staying here today and…" he paused. "Thank you for mothering me, I guess."

Her face lit up with pleasure and she stepped forward to kiss his cheek lightly. "You're welcome. I'm glad you're feeling better and I'm sure you'll feel even more like yourself tomorrow. Good night, Lee."

"Good night Amanda." His voice still sounded hoarse and his throat was weirdly tight and scratchy.

It was only after the door had closed and he could hear her footsteps fading away down the hallway that he realized that those few sentences had been the first time he'd spoken out loud the entire day.


	7. Crisis Management

Lee chuckled and Amanda's head swiveled to look up at him as they walked through Lafayette Square. He looked a million times better than he had when she'd arrived at his apartment the day before to find him ashen and stumbling in the throes of a concussion migraine. It had been a shock to see him so helpless since he'd been pretty much his regular self the night before. He was normally so lively, never at rest; he had always bounced back from things like a rubber ball and an entire day of sleeping and not speaking – not even to complain – had been unnerving. By late afternoon, she'd been on the brink of insisting he return to the hospital when she'd finally seen the color start to return to his cheeks and the crease of pain smoothing out from his forehead.

She flashed back to the first night in the hospital after their crash through the bus shelter; she'd held his hand for hours, talking to him, trying to get any reaction from him and getting nothing before finally curling up on the much-too-small bench when she could no longer sit upright. The relief when he'd finally come to and reached to grasp her hand, wrapping his around it like he needed an anchor had been so overwhelming – and then she'd had to watch him fake his death again just days later. She shook herself free of the memory, shoving it to the back of that overflowing mental compartment labelled 'Nightmares' and smiled up at him.

"What's so funny?" she asked, trying not to let any of that show on her face.

"I was just thinking how amazing it is I'm still alive when I probably shouldn't be"

It was close to what she'd been thinking that she could barely hold in the choke of horror, forcing herself to keep her voice light as she asked, "And why shouldn't you be with your own Bluebell at your beck and call?"

"That's what I mean," he answered laughing. "Thank God I've got you – can you imagine if Billy had assigned me to Francine? One of us would be dead by now for sure."

His good humor was so infectious that she couldn't help laughing along. "I _think_ there was a compliment buried in there, so I'll disregard the way you just insulted a fellow agent."

Lee chuckled and reached out to take her hand and squeeze it, then continued to hold it as they walked. "Seriously though, you're a very calming person. Amanda. Francine would have been pacing around my apartment making me crazy by the end of the first day. And she definitely would have bitched if I hadn't talked to her for an entire day."

"Ah, but she would also have catered all your meals from the Blue Fox," Amanda reminded him. "Whereas I've been sneakily undermining your taste buds with food that regular people eat."

"Well, you win some, you lose some, I guess" he answered, smiling. "Ooof!" he added when she tried to shove him sideways, pretending to stumble a few steps, before reaching back and clasping her hand again, almost absentmindedly.

He glanced down at her as she stared straight ahead, lips pressed together, obviously trying not to laugh. She lifted her face to meet his questioning look.

"I'm just writing a mental list of all the words you've used to describe me. I don't think 'calming' was ever one of them," she answered the unasked question. "Aggravating, frustrating, irritating…"

"Stubborn," he supplied helpfully. "Don't forget stubborn."

"I was getting there. The list was alphabetical," she replied in a serene tone that didn't quite hide the laughter behind it.

They continued to saunter in silence for a few minutes, enjoying the sunshine that held that sliver of warmth that said spring was just around the corner.

"I'm going to have to tell Mother we were at an outdoor shoot," said Amanda, closing her eyes and lifting her face to the sun. "I'm going to have too much color in my face to convince her I'm spending my days in an editing room."

"She must have wondered what happened with all the 'overtime' when I was away and you weren't out until crazy hours," remarked Lee. "I mean, unless you were? I don't even know what Billy had you doing while I was in Sainte Marie."

"Well, you know how it goes. Once Fred and I were done busting that Columbian drug cartel wide open, I spent the rest of the time relaxing," she answered. "Filing, transcribing, restocking the supply cabinet… it was a whirlwind existence." She stole a quick glance at him. "I missed you. Life's pretty dull without you around."

"Right back at you," he answered with a wink, before abruptly changing tack. "You said the other night you've been seeing Dr. Joyce?" Lee ventured. "How's that been going?" She could hear the note of uncertainty in his voice. "I mean, you made it sound like you'd seen her a couple of times." He cleared his throat nervously, "More than the usual post-mission appointment?"

"Mmm-hmm," said Amanda, a little bit evasively. "A couple more. Turns out it's hard to shut me up once I get going." She paused automatically to let him respond, turning to look at him when there was only a strangled snort. Lee was staring straight ahead but the dimple creasing his cheek spoke volumes about the tenuous hold he had on his tongue.

"Nope," he responded to the unspoken question, finally turning to meet her eyes, his dancing. "Not going to touch it."

Amanda grinned and gave him another little hip check, before turning more serious again. "You were right, I do like her. She's, uh… calming." She chanced a look up at his profile. "She said you talked to her before you left, told her she didn't have to pretend not to know about you and Andy."

Lee's hand squeezed hers reflexively but he continued to stare straight ahead. "Well, I thought your brother might come up, and I didn't want you to have to censor yourself. And like I said, she's one of the good ones."

"It was a kind thought, thank you," she answered. There was a long pause and she went on, "I'm beginning to understand why all those people talk about going to therapy. It's cathartic, you know?"

Lee snorted. "I don't know about that. I can never quite shake the feeling they're storing stuff up for the book they're going to write later." He caught himself and quickly added, "But I'm glad you're finding it helpful."

 _Helpful_. Amanda rolled the word around in her mind. Yes it had been helpful. And cathartic, and exhausting and emotionally draining. Lee hadn't been the only one to talk to Claudia ahead of time. She still wasn't sure how much Francine had told the psychiatrist before her first appointment, but Claudia had spent several appointments inexorably prodding her toward unburdening herself about what had really happened that night with Leslie before it had finally all come out.

" _It's silly, really that it's even still bothering me. I mean it was all my own fault really…"_

" _What makes you say that?"_

" _I'd been drinking, I went back to her room, I was on her bed…_ _she probably thought I was interested."_

" _Did you ever say you were?"_

" _Well, no, because I wasn't, but I can see why she'd think…"_

" _But you never consented to anything?"_

" _No, well, I don't think so."_

" _Amanda, if you were in a condition that precludes you from remembering, you couldn't have given consent. That is the literal definition of rape."_

" _But don't you think I implied it?"_

" _She might have inferred it, but I have no reason to believe you implied it. Sitting talking with someone in a hotel room is not implying you want to have sex with them."_

" _How do I know if I consented if I can't remember it?"_

" _Would it help to try and go through the whole evening?"_

" _I don't know. Would it?"_

" _Well, there's a simple method I could use, a question and response system – it might help you recall enough detail to try and understand what happened to you. You've spent so long repressing it that I think you're not able to remember it in a normal chronological way. It's just simple questions that concentrate more on the five senses than the actual event. Would you like to try that?"_

" _Okay, I guess…"_

…

" _What could you see in the room?"_

" _Not much. There was only one light on and it was behind her. I couldn't see her face all that clearly."_

" _And was it disorienting to not be able to see clearly?"_

" _Yes… I'd drunk too much and it was fuzzier than normal."_

" _What did you eat or drink while you were there?"_

" _We didn't eat. We'd just had dinner, but she got coffee from room service."_

" _And the coffee didn't help you think more clearly?"_

" _No, we only had a cup each and anyway she suggested we add something to it from the minibar in her room."_

" _And that was all you had?"_

" _No. Then she opened a bottle of something else. A regular bottle, I mean, not something from the bar fridge."_

" _Do you know what it is?"_

" _I can't remember." Panic is starting at the edge of the memories now. "Why can't I remember?"_

" _It's alright Amanda, it's a minor detail and it was a long time ago. Do you remember anything she said? Anything that suggested she was interested sexually in you?"_

" _N-n-n-no. Just jokes about the way the men she was working with kept hitting on her and how she wasn't interested in fat businessmen. And telling me to have another drink. I knew I shouldn't – I didn't have any more - but her perfume was making me sleepy."_

" _Her perfume made you sleepy?"_

" _That's what it felt like. Not sleepy exactly but queasy maybe? Like I didn't want to move. Like the bed was the most comfortable place on earth."_

" _How did you end up on the bed?"_

" _I don't know. I think... I went to the bathroom and when I came back, she'd moved to the chair so it was the only place to sit."_

" _Do you think she did that on purpose?"_

" _You mean, like she… tricked me to sit there?"_

" _Yes. It's a classic technique to shift you to a position of less power. And she is pouring your drinks?"_

" _Yes."_

" _You don't know what it is?"_

" _No."_

_**Drink this – I think you'll like it.** _ _Blue eyes over a proffered glass._

" _But you drank it?"_

" _Not all of it. It was bitter – it had a medicine taste I didn't like. She said it was just the flavor."_

" _Do you remember her getting on the bed with you?"_

" _No – I just closed my eyes for a second and then she was… there."_

" _How long do you think you closed your eyes for?"_

" _I-I-I don't know. Longer than I thought. I thought I'd fallen asleep and I was dreaming. She was kissing me and at first I didn't fight. I thought she was… someone else. I didn't fight…"_

" _Someone else?"_

" _Yes."_

_A long silence. Amanda could hear Claudia's pen scratching its way across the paper._

" _And what could you feel?"_

" _Feel? You mean, like… did I like it?" Chest tightening, fear settling in again like an old friend._

" _No, no. I mean like with your sense of touch, with your fingers, or other parts of your body. What was your sense of touch telling you? Were you warm or cold?"_

" _My fingers were… tingly. Kinda numb, I guess like they'd gone to sleep. I can feel the bedspread against my legs – it was one of those duvet things, you know the kind they have in Europe? It was soft, flannel or something because it was winter. It was almost December. The pillow was soft too, but cool – linen or something I think. I'm shivering like I'm cold. She was kneeling over me."_

" _Beside you or over you?"_

" _Over one leg, so I can't move easily. I tried to push her off but it was hard. I couldn't get any leverage at first."_

" _Was she still dressed?"_

" _Mostly, I think? But I could feel her skin on mine where she was kneeling."_

" _It was winter but you could feel the bedspread and her skin – so had you been wearing stockings or tights?"_

" _Yes – I would have been."_

" _So did you take them off? Or did she?"_

_Panic fluttering in her chest again like a moth against a window. "I can't remember. I don't think I did."_

" _You say you woke to find her kissing you… Were you still dressed? Other than the stockings being missing?"_

" _I thought so. My skirt was still on but my blouse was mostly unbuttoned." Shame flooding through her. "I didn't realize that until I was back at my hotel. I was cold trying to get back there but I thought it was just because it was so late at night. The night clerk looked at me like I was… not nice."_

" _Anything else?" Claudia's quiet voice was steady and clinical as if Amanda was just telling her about a perfectly normal day._

_Throat closing._

_Don't say it, don't say it. It's not_ _**true** _ _if you don't say it out loud…_

" _Amanda?"_

" _My underwear. That was gone too. I never realized until I got undressed at my hotel."_

_Tears now, trickling out of the corners of squeezed shut eyes, hot and salty, tracking down her cheeks, silently, always silently. Don't cry, the boys will hear. Don't cry, Mother will hear. Don't cry, Lee hates it when you cry. Throat tightening even more, tears pooling in her ears, the light tickle a contrast to the pain in her chest._

" _How could I have been so stupid?" Struggling to catch her breath._

_The realization that Claudia was pushing tissues into her hands and helping her sit up._

" _Do you want to keep going or finish this another day?" She could hear the concern, knew that it would be too easy to give in and let that be an end to it. She could put this back in its box and seal it shut. She could tell Francine she was fine. She could keep lying – it had been months, why stop now?_

" _Keep going." Her voice sounds scratchy and like it's coming from another body. This needs to be done. Like ripping off a Band-Aid. You'll never come back if you don't finish this._

_She stays sitting up and listens to Claudia moving back to her own chair, giving her the distance to feel safe again. Then back to the only-clinically-interested tone of voice, brutally direct._

" _You told me she raped you. Why are you so certain you didn't wake up in time? Before it got that far?"_

" _I wasn't certain at first." Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out. "I mean how would a woman…? But the next day, I was… sore. There was blood and pain from… From scratches… inside. From fingernails maybe." Breathe in, breathe out. "And bruises. I knew she'd bitten me on the collarbone after I woke up like she was taunting me, but there were other marks… bites and bruises on my thigh, and… other places. I hurt places…where I shouldn't."_

" _Was there anything you remember in the room that she might have used as part of the attack?"_

" _I don't remember. Does it matter?"_

" _No, I'm just trying to help you get a clearer picture so you're not fighting so many unknowns."_

_Fighting. Fighting her off. I_ _**did** _ _try, I did… didn't I?_

" _She said I'd enjoyed it." The words burst out of her, painful to hear in the silence, words she'd forgotten in the aftermath. "When I was trying to get her off me, she said I'd enjoyed it. What if I did? What if I responded because I thought she was…"_

" _Rapists often tell their victims they enjoyed it as a form of control. The body does have some basic responses to certain stimuli, but that doesn't imply enjoyment by any means."_

" _You're saying rapist now. Do you think she was?"_

" _From everything you've described, I am entirely certain of it. The physical sensations you're describing suggest that not only did she give you liquor but that it was laced with something – thus the lethargy but still semi-consciousness. You would have been compliant but unable to fight back. Your revulsion is clearly physical as well as emotional – you were not willing."_

" _But why? Why would she do it? She liked men too – why didn't she just sleep with one of the men who'd been hitting on her?"_

" _Rape isn't about sexuality, Amanda – it's not even about sex. It's about power, control, cruelty even. Most men would present no challenge since they would likely be willing. This couldn't have been the first time she'd done this – it was too careful, too planned. You say she travels in her job? That would make it harder to catch her and easier for her to find victims. Most women traveling alone would be like yourself – too ashamed to admit what had happened and certain no one would believe them."_

" _So you're saying she was the spider and I was the fly?"_

" _Yes, well put."_

" _I'm not sure I like being a victim. It makes me sound helpless."_

" _Well, that's why you're here, isn't it? You can be a victim of a crime without being to blame for the crime. If she had stolen money from you that night instead, would you tell yourself she thought you wanted her to?"_

" _No, of course not, but I can still be at fault for not having protected myself properly."_

" _It was a skillfully set trap, one which it seems like she'd practiced often – she preyed on your instinct to be kind, not your gullibility. You would have to be a very different person to have suspected her motives."_

" _But isn't that what I'm supposed to do in this job? Be suspicious? Guard myself?"_

" _Yes, but you hadn't been with the Agency so long at that point. And you weren't there in a working capacity, were you? You were socializing with someone you had no reason to suspect."_

" _I still feel foolish. I should have sensed something."_

" _Amanda, how did you join the Agency?"_

" _What?"_

" _Don't worry, I've read your recruitment file so it was a rhetorical question. But you sensed something you trusted in Lee Stetson, didn't you? When you took that package and agreed to deliver it?"_

" _Yes, but that's what I mean – why would I know he was trustworthy and not know she wasn't?"_

" _On that same case, Francine Desmond was tricked into revealing things she shouldn't have, wasn't she? You don't need to respond – I know enough of the details to know you were there. Now, do you think she is to blame for being fooled by a woman she had no reason to suspect?"_

" _Well, of course not – she was just going for cooking lessons…"_

" _And you were just sharing a meal and conversation with someone who turned out to be a sociopath. That doesn't put you at fault. No more than any other woman who is attacked by someone she knows. Your instincts are good – but sociopaths don't play by the same rules as the rest of us. Their brains are literally wired differently from the rest of us. It wasn't your fault when you had no way of knowing that."_

" _It wasn't my fault." She tested the words out loud in the quiet room. Claudia made it sound so simple, and sensible and_ _true_ _. "It wasn't my fault."_

" _It wasn't your fault." She lifted her head to meet Claudia's clear-eyed gaze. "You did nothing wrong."_

_The tears came again, but not silently this time. This time they came in loud gulping uncontrollable sobs that hurt her chest and kept her from catching her breath, followed by an insane desire to run. Run somewhere, run anywhere – get away from here, as if the flutters of panic she'd lived with all this time were making a last stand against eviction. Standing and stumbling to the door, only getting as far as the waiting room before doubling over, chest heaving, not sure where she could run to, knowing Lee's empty office was too far and Lee even further although every instinct is screaming that's where safety lies._

_Why isn't he here when she needs him?_

_Shaking her head, trying to shake that thought loose before it can make a home there– it's not his fault either. He has no way of knowing she needs him, not now, not then._

_Hearing Claudia lift the phone from its cradle, hearing her speak quietly, before coming to stand beside her, rubbing gentle circles on her back. It has to be less than a minute before she hears the familiar swift steps in the hall and the doctor is replaced with Francine, leading her back into Claudia's office, back to the sofa, arm around her in silent comfort._

_Hearing the quiet whispers. "Take as long as she needs. Just sit with her. Don't let her drive. I've left a script for some anti-anxiety meds. She'll be fine. The worst is over."_

_The worst is over._

"I think the worst is over, don't you? Of winter, I mean – you can see the trees starting to get buds already."

Amanda looked up blankly at Lee, startled to realize they were already at the Mall, the Washington Monument looming up in front of them.

"Wow, you were a million miles away just then, weren't you?" he joked, pausing uncertainly at the expression on her face. "Is everything okay?"

"What? Oh yes! Everything's fine. I was just thinking about stuff."

"Anything I can help with?" His eyes were still alert with concern and she felt the familiar flutter of happiness that they were friends.

_You should tell Lee._

_But how would he look at me then?_

"No, not really, but I'll let you know."

He studied her for a moment, head tilted to one side as if he wasn't quite sure he believed her before nodding thoughtfully. "Well I'm here if you need me."

He wondered why her face lit up with a blinding smile at such a simple comment, but didn't ask, too relieved to see the sad expression disappear.

 _He's here when I need him_.


	8. Cauterized

It was fortunate for the sake of their friendship, Amanda thought with a small smile, that Dr. Kelford had given Lee the all-clear for at least small amounts of coffee and alcohol by the fifth day. It wasn't that Lee required the stimulation, it was just that they were a part of his routine and he was getting increasingly antsy as the days passed and Billy refused to even let him near the building. At least now they could kill time walking to the coffee shop or browsing at his favorite shop for the perfect wine for their dinner.

The healthier he had gotten, the harder it was to keep him from climbing the walls and as he'd rebounded from the concussion and the mild infection from the knife wound, Amanda had gone from nurse to den mother with the ease of long practice. Lee, obviously unpracticed at the art of relaxing, was, for once, doing his best to behave and she'd soon realized the best idea was just to let him have his head and be prepared to pull back on the reins if he got too carried away.

Today the distraction had taken the form of letting him make dinner after a trip the gourmet grocery store in Maclean. Her offer to actually bring dinner from the Blue Fox to counteract the domesticity of home-cooked meals had turned into him insisting that it was time he return the favor and cook for her instead. Since it kept him busy and clear of anything dangerous except sharp kitchen knives, she'd put up only a token resistance, beyond demanding a veto over the menu. She hadn't forgotten that weird squid dish he'd made her as a 'treat' years ago and wasn't about to test those culinary limits again. After she turned her nose up at his joking offer to cook zebra steaks from the exotic food department, Lee had settled on making some kind of complicated Italian dish that –thankfully – kept him busy for most of the afternoon, chopping and prepping, telling her stories about his time pretending to be a grad student in Venice, even able to make little references to Eva without difficulty.

They'd talked about her once, in the aftermath of the Black Book Incident, as she still thought of it, when she'd sat with him watching him methodically tear out the pages out of those notebooks and feed them into a shredder in the Q Bureau.

" _Won't you need those?" she asked, forcing herself to try and sound like she was teasing, even though she was silently cheering, relieved that it might be a sign he'd put those days behind him._

" _No, the people in here aren't real," he answered absently, then looked up at her noise of distress._

" _Cheryl was real," she said, the disquiet in her voice all too clear as she remembered that poor woman slumping dead in front of her._

_Lee had stared at her, an expression of dismay on his face. "Oh God, I didn't mean it that way. I mean, of course she was real – and that's why I need to get rid of these. These books are really just lists of girls Andy and I dated as cover – girls from the steno pool that we took out on double dates, flirted with, hung around parties with – anything to keep the image going of just two guys on the social scene. But they never signed up for anything like this, and now, just by knowing me, some of them are dead!" He stared down at the half-destroyed booklet in his hand. "They were just nice girls that were fun to spend time with – I used them and some of them paid a hell of a price for it."_

" _Well, you hardly_ _ **used**_ _them – I'm sure they enjoyed any time they spent with you," she said, but couldn't help asking, "There really isn't anybody, not even in four books, that you'd consider a friend?"_

" _Oh no," he answered. "I had to keep notes on people I barely knew, but important people? Those people are all up here." He tapped his head and gave her a tight smile. "I could still tell you all sorts of things about Dorothy or Eva without having to think about it, even after all these years."_

_He seemed to be in a peculiar mood and she'd ventured to ask something out loud that she'd only wondered about before. "Lee? How did Dorothy fit in? I mean, I thought you and Andy met in training?"_

" _We did – and we fought like cats and dogs," Lee laughed. "It was pretty obvious in hindsight later that we were both really just fighting our attraction, but it was 1973 and well, neither of us could chance outing ourselves so we never acted on any of it. Anyway, Paul recruited me and Dorothy to his team and we got close. She was sweet and pretty and we were thrown together a lot and since we were young, it went the way it inevitably does… Paul wasn't too happy about it but as long as it didn't interfere in our work, he turned a blind eye." He sighed and leaned back in his chair, staring at the office ceiling. "It was just kid stuff really, but then when she was killed, the Oz network was disbanded and I was sent back to regular field work, and partnered with Andy. I didn't want a partner – of course – especially not him… so it was pretty rocky at first, but we were both older and wiser by then and he was the only one who put up with me lashing out at everything and everyone."_

" _Sounds familiar," she said before she could stop herself._

" _Yeah, well I've been lucky twice now that someone came along to care enough drag me out of that dark place," he answered, dropping his gaze to look at her. "Very lucky."_

_She shrugged with embarrassment. "I wasn't fishing for compliments, Lee."_

" _I know," he said in that gentle warm tone she thought was reserved for her. "But it's still true." He gave a deep sigh and went back to the story. "Anyway, partnership turned to friendship and eventually friendship turned to…" His voice drifted off momentarily._

" _Love," Amanda couldn't help finishing the sentence._

" _Yeah." He'd gone back to staring at the ceiling but continued to talk softly. "And six years later, he was…gone." The silence stretched out, Amanda unable to figure out how to break it when he suddenly went on. "And then came the alcohol-fueled emotional car crash that almost wiped out my career." He glanced at her briefly. "There was a reason people bought it when I played a burnout, you know – it had come close to happening before, but that time, it was Francine who tried to pick me up and get me moving again, which led to some_ _very_ _poor life-choices for both of us."_

" _Oh boy."_

" _Oh boy indeed. And it went just about as well as you'd expect, and then Billy sent me off to Venice on a six-month mission to get me the hell out of everyone's way before I made two of us wreck our careers instead of just me… and I met Eva. Frying pan meet fire."_

" _Oh my gosh, that's awful," she said sympathetically._

" _I do love your talent for understatement, Mrs. King." Lee's eyes came back to meet hers and to her relief, his were crinkling with laughter. "Here I am, pouring out my guts again for the second time in a week and you sum it up with 'that's awful'?" He chuckled and began dropping pages into the shredder again. "And then I came home, declared I was never going to do that again, added another book to the collection, met a crazy woman who refuses to listen to a word I say - and here we are."_

_Amanda glanced over at the roses he'd given her earlier that day. "Yeah, here we are," she echoed._

"That was a fantastic dinner, Lee."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it – I'd gotten out of the habit of doing anything beyond the basics. Not much fun cooking for one."

"I know what you mean. Some days I could scream when I try something different and the boys turn their noses up and ask why we couldn't have just had meatloaf."

"Small boys are heathens," he laughed. "But the good news is, a lot of us outgrow it."

"Well, if I could get them to grow out of it without growing up, I'd be set."

"You don't want them to grow up and get out from under your feet?"

"Oh well, I mean I'd like them to leave the nest at some point, sure, but right now they're still my babies and I want to hang onto to that for just a bit longer. I'll miss being the mom who can solve all their problems."

"Well, think of all the extra hours you got in this week babysitting me," joked Lee. "And in light of that, we should toast your imminent freedom from diaper duty." Lee handed her a small shot glass of faintly colored liquid. "Here try this – I think you'll like it."

There was something there that set the alarm bells ringing in her head, but it wasn't until she lifted the glass and drank it that she pinned down that fluttering shadow. The slightly bitter flavor of the schnapps hit her taste buds and her entire body revolted in an instant of sensory memory.

Lee watched horrified as she lost all the color in her face before dashing from the table. He chased after her as she ricocheted off the bathroom door, falling to her knees in front of the toilet, retching uncontrollably. He dropped to his knees too, pulling her hair back out of the way as her slight body heaved, emptying her stomach until there was nothing left. Even then, she was wracked with dry heaves, gasping as she tried to catch her breath in between.

"Oh my God, Amanda! What did I do?"

He reached for a facecloth, running it under the tap and wringing out before beginning to carefully sponge her cheeks, while she leaned into the hand he had placed against the back of her neck. To his relief, she was getting some color back, but she had the faint feverish sheen on her skin from the ferocity of her body's revolt and she was shivering as if she was going into shock. He leaned over the sink again, grabbing a glass and filling it with cold water, holding it out tentatively. For a moment, her expression looked like she was going to be sick again but then she took it, sipping carefully and swishing her mouth out and spitting it into the toilet several times before falling back against the tub wall. He filled the glass again and watched as she drank this one down.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, now beginning to look embarrassed.

"It's fine," he said soothingly. "Feeling better?"

When she nodded, he reached to flush the toilet to rid the room of the smell of vomit, fearing it would make her sick again, and at the sound, she began trying to push herself upright. He scrambled to his feet to help her up, only to have her sag against him after a few steps, so he scooped her up and carried her the last few feet back to the sofa, setting her down on it and then sitting down beside her, drawing her in to rest against him, trying to hold her lightly enough for her to catch her breath but close enough to give comfort.

She rested there in his arms for a few moments, as he waited for her breath to slow and the trembling to stop.

"I'm sorry," she said again brokenly, voice scratchy like she was on the verge of tears. "It wasn't your cooking, honest." She gave a slightly hysterical giggle and added, "I'm sorry I wasted all your effort."

"My God, Amanda, if it wasn't my cooking, what the hell was it?" He began rocking her slightly in his arms, relieved that whatever it was seemed to have passed.

"It was the schnapps," she whispered. "That's what she gave me. That's what I couldn't remember. I told Claudia I couldn't remember what it was and I couldn't until just now and then it all came back." Another embarrassed sob, "And then dinner came back too. I'm sorry."

"I'm not following you. It was what who gave you?"

"The other Lee." It was so quiet he barely heard her, but he froze all the same.

"The other Lee?" he asked carefully, trying not to spook her. "There's another one?"

There was a quiet sob against his chest and he tightened his arms around her. "It's okay," he soothed her. "It's okay." He took a deep breath and tried to sound as neutral as he could. "Do you want to talk about it?"

There was a long silence and then finally, a quiet "Yes".

"Okay then," he let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "So who is the other Lee and what did she give you that made you that sick?"

Amanda took a deep breath and pushed herself off his shoulder, turning to sit up and wipe her eyes. It took her a few minutes to regain her composure and then she'd turned to face him again, leaving space between them and staring down at her lap. Worried again, he reached over to take her hand, and to his relief, she didn't pull away; rather she lay her other hand on top of his and started to quietly tell him the whole story, never looking up.

"Do you remember when I was arrested for counterfeiting in Munich?" she began. "Do you remember me telling you I met a woman there? A woman who called herself Lee?"

It took a long time and a few pauses for hiccupping sobs but Amanda finally told him what had really happened with Leslie. She never called her by that name, in fact after that first instance, she never referred to her as anything but 'she' and she certainly never told him about his unwitting involvement in being exposed to her again. He was glad she wasn't looking at him as the full horror of it slowly hit him. From what Leslie had said, and the throwaway reference to the bite mark in the German police report, he had always assumed it had been a slightly more than humiliating drunken groping incident that she was ashamed to admit to, not _this_ , not a lengthy attack while she was drugged and unconscious. Not something so traumatizing that she'd repressed it for over a year, and never told a soul. Not _rape_.

He could feel the bile rising in his own throat and fought to control it.

Her voice, husky at the best of times, had gotten tighter as she got to the end and he knew she was barely hanging on by a thread. He knew he should say something comforting or sympathetic or sensitive but instead found himself snarling the first thing that came into his head.

"That _fucking_ bitch. I should have killed her."

For the first time, Amanda's eyes jerked up to meet his, with a shocked expression at the language he'd used and too late he remembered he wasn't supposed to know who had done this.

"I should have been there," he amended it quickly, "I should have been with you – and if I can ever get my hands on her, I'm going to kill her."

Amanda gave a short gasping laugh. "Francine said you'd react like that."

"Wait - Francine knew about all this?" Lee tried not to sound hurt but he couldn't imagine any scenario where Francine would have been her confidante of choice, or why he wasn't after all they'd been through together. Or why Francine hadn't come to him either for that matter.

"Oh!" Amanda gasped hearing that note in his voice. "Not the whole time! I didn't even mean to tell her – it just sort of came out a few weeks back because I was telling her I should quit because of that whole thing with Karl Eagles-"

"You were going to _quit_?" he interrupted, momentarily distracted.

"I wasn't, not really, but I was tired and upset because I was starting to have trouble telling the good guys from the bad guys and she said of course I could and I said that if that were true, I wouldn't have been…" she trailed off, back to looking anywhere but at him, unable to say the word.

"Is _that_ why she wanted you to talk to Claudia?"

"Y-y-yes. I hadn't told anyone about it – she gave me a whole lecture about how I should have talked to someone at the time." She stole a quick glance up at him, recognizing that growling sound he was making. "Don't be mad at her – she told me weeks ago I should have told you too."

"She did?" Now that surprised him – Francine was such a stoic herself, he couldn't imagine her encouraging anyone else to be otherwise.

"Well, she thought it was bad for our, uhhhh, partnership that you didn't know. She thought we were, um…"

It was the note of discomfort in Amanda's voice that suddenly shed light on that conversation with Francine during that drive home.

"So that's what she meant," he muttered, flushing when Amanda looked at him questioningly. "I got a lecture from her too - about being a better partner. How I should protect you better from office gossip, that kind of thing."

"You're a great partner," she leapt to his defense. "And you're the most protective person I know."

He shifted closer to her, trying to be gentle as he wrapped his arms around her, letting out a breath of relief when she returned the embrace, leaning against him for support.

"Not when it mattered. I should have been there," he repeated helplessly. "I should have been there to protect you."

"Lee, it was a simple courier run. There shouldn't have been anything to protect me from. It wasn't even something that happened while I was working. And even if it had been, it's just part of the normal risk, like any other danger in this job."

"That is _not_ part of the normal risk, Amanda! There is a difference between what we sometimes have to do on a mission and what happened to you! Our job isn't some stupid James Bond movie." He wanted to shake some sense into her, but settled for hugging her a bit tighter.

"It's always a risk when you're a woman, Lee. That's practically the first thing Francine said when it all came out that day – 'it's happened to all of us'.

Somehow that made it worse, that resigned acceptance in her voice, coupled with his own sudden recognition of all the times Francine had been sent off to do the flirt-and-bait routine with nothing but teasing jokes from him. How often had one of those 'dates' gone bad and she'd never told him?

"I'm so sorry," he murmured against her hair. "I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," she answered, then quickly corrected herself. "Well, no, it's not okay, but I'm okay. I'm going to be okay. Claudia thinks the worst is over as far as starting to recover goes, now that I'm dealing with it."

"Seeing Dr. Joyce's been helping?" he asked quietly.

"She's been wonderful. Francine too, which I didn't expect. You'd think she'd be all snippy and using it to make me feel stupid and instead it's like I've finally passed the hazing to join some club of people she approves of. She's been really supportive – like trying to convince me I still have good instincts."

"You do have good instincts," said Lee. "I depend on them all the time. Right from the first day we met."

Amanda laughed softly and lifted her head to look at him. "That's what I keep coming back to, you know. When I start to think about how I didn't see what people like Alan Squires was like, or Sinclair or _her_ , I remind myself I wasn't wrong about you. And that didn't turn out half bad."

"No, it sure didn't" he agreed quietly. She smiled and her face seemed to almost glow then, even through the smudged mascara and the tear stains on her cheeks. His heart did its customary skip at the sight of that smile, and he was very lucky indeed that she dropped her head back on his chest to hug him, because if she hadn't, he would very likely have given into that overwhelming temptation, and he knew, with very little consideration, that this would be a terrible, _terrible_ time to finally tell her how he felt.

 _I love you, Amanda_.

Amanda, emotionally and physically exhausted by everything that had just happened, leaned against him, forcing herself not to look up again and meet those eyes that barely concealed his emotions when he was upset. She couldn't bear to see the pity or worse, the possibility of disgust as what she'd told him began to sink home. Afraid too that he'd be able to read her thoughts in her face and think it was just an emotional reaction.

 _I love you_.

She sat up, and took a deep breath. "I should go."

"No, you should stay."

He understood her look of shock for what it was but he was panicking at the idea of letting her out of his sight right now. "I mean it. You should stay here tonight. You probably shouldn't be driving and if you go home, your mother will see you've been upset."

"And what will she think if I don't come home at all?"

He was relieved when she didn't just refuse outright and rushed to capitalize on it. "Call and tell her you've had too much to drink and you're going to stay with that friend you've been looking after all week. That's practically the truth."

Amanda studied him for a moment, seeing the plea in his eyes.

"Amanda, you can't just drop all that on me and _leave_. The boys aren't home, you don't have to go home. Please – just stay."

He wasn't sure he was getting through to her until suddenly she nodded. "Okay - on one condition."

"Junior agent gets the bed," he responded immediately.

She laughed out loud then and the tightness in his chest eased a tiny bit. "I was going to say on condition you stop blaming yourself. I've finally accepted that it wasn't my fault, I don't have the energy to deal with having to keep telling you it wasn't yours." She held up a hand as he opened his mouth. "I mean it. I know you want to blame someone and it's why I didn't tell you back then… I thought… no, I _knew_ you'd blame me. Yes, you would have" she rushed on stopping him in his tracks. "You know you would have – we weren't friends then like we are now. You were angry I'd been arrested, you were angry I'd ruined your weekend with that girl and how could I have told you then?" She spread her hands helplessly "I just wanted to go _home_ and I couldn't and then all that stuff happened with Harry and you were so upset about him too, so I just squashed it down, you know?" She looked up at him, eyes shiny with tears. "I thought I was just being a good agent. Put on an agent face and pretend everything's fine."

"Oh God, Amanda," Lee groaned in disbelief. "Did I make you think that-"

"Lee! Stop it!" she said, her voice rising with frustration. "You didn't _make_ me do anything. I'm a grown woman – I made the choice not to tell anyone and it was a bad choice but it was _my_ choice!" She stopped to haul in a deep gulp of air. "Just like it was my choice to go up to that hotel room in the first place."

"She'd gotten you drunk!" he growled. "She took that choice away from you."

"Yes she did," answered Amanda quietly. "But we've had too much to drink plenty of times at parties and you've never done that."

"I wouldn't!" he said, horrified.

Amanda grabbed his hand and held it between hers. "Of course you wouldn't! But don't you see? That's the point – you would never make that choice, you aren't… what she is. It wasn't my fault and it wasn't yours. It was all _hers_." She met his eyes and nodded. "Right?"

Lee stared at her silently before finally nodding. "Right," he said gruffly.

"Good," she answered obviously relieved.

There was a long pause while they stared at each other before Amanda finally broke it. "Okay, I have a second condition."

"Anything," he said quickly.

"Can I have a sandwich or something? My stomach is killing me and dinner was delicious, but I just can't face eating any of the leftovers right now."

Lee couldn't help laughing for a moment at the unexpected request. "Yes, you can have a sandwich. What do you want?"

"Peanut butter," she answered instantly. "Comfort food."

"Comfort food," he nodded. "Got it."

Amanda watched as he got up and walked to the kitchen, recognizing the tension that was still in every inch of his frame. She heard him moving quietly around for a moment or two, then a sound that didn't quite make sense. Slipping off the couch, she went to stand in the entrance to his small kitchen; the sandwich was finished and sitting on a plate nearby but Lee was standing with his back to her, pouring out the bottle of schnapps in the sink. He dropped the empty bottle into the garbage with a muttered curse and leaned forward on the counter, head dropped against his chest, hand rubbing the back of his neck. She padded forward, wrapping her arms around his waist, her cheek against his back.

"It's okay," she said. "It's okay."

Lee turned and put his arms around her, resting his head on hers. "No it's not," he sighed. "But it will be."


	9. Losing Patients

"And what was that 'personal feelings' comment all about, anyway? I do _not_ have personal feelings for Will Towne!"

She'd obviously been waiting for the relative privacy of the elevator to start up the fight in Billy's office again, a fight he was more than willing to participate in, frustrated by her stubbornness.

"I never said that you did! But you gave him a good review and now you think it will make you look bad when he turns out to be working for the Russians! You're just trying to overcompensate because you think I'm questioning your instincts!"

"Excuse me?" Her voice was icy but her eyes were flashing dangerously. In the confined space, he could feel the anger coming off her in waves. "Overcompensating for what exactly?"

He knew he shouldn't, but he was still so ticked from that scene in Billy's office that he spat it out anyway. "You're determined to say he's a good guy because you're still not sure whether you can even tell a good guy from a bad guy!"

The moment it was out of his mouth, it was like the temperature in the elevator dropped twenty degrees and he suddenly felt like the coyote in the cartoon who has just discovered he's run right off a cliff and is suspended in mid-air, waiting for the sudden drop.

"I see." Her eyes, which had been snapping with rage just seconds before, had gone stone-cold. She turned to stare straight ahead at the door.

"Amanda," he sighed. "I get it – I really do. You think your value is all tied up in your ability to read people, and on paper, this guy Towne checks all the boxes, but all the evidence is pointing to him being a double agent and your famous gut instinct just isn't enough here. I'm sorry, but you are way off base on this."

She still wouldn't look at him. "We've seen evidence be wrong before – more times than I've been wrong about a gut feeling," she replied, voice tight with anger. "And this isn't anything to do with my instincts anyway! I've spent time with Will Towne and his wife, I did all the background checks and I used all the techniques they tell us about to read a person's body language. I am _not_ just working on some ooky-spooky feeling, Lee Stetson, and I know he is nothing but a nice guy who's good at math, likes Chinese food and loves his wife!" Her voice had been rising as steadily as the elevator – he was certain Mrs. Marston could hear them coming.

"Amanda! The evidence-"

As the elevator door stopped, she brushed past him to open the door onto the lobby then turned to face him, jabbing a finger into his chest. "I don't care what the evidence says! You are not always right, no matter how much you think otherwise! And don't stand there accusing me of something you do all the time! Now let's go find that proof you're so certain isn't there!" She stalked off across the lobby, pausing only to give Mrs. Marston her pass before heading to the door. The receptionist had looked at him, eyebrows raised accusingly, as he handed over his own pass and he'd settled for a weak smile and a muttered apology for the disruption before following Amanda out to the car.

The drive to Culpepper was completed in unnerving silence, Amanda staring out the passenger window, lips pressed together, tapping her hand on the purse in her lap, him sneaking sidelong glances, thinking up and discarding a thousand different ways to try and break down the barrier of hurt feelings she'd thrown up. After all these months of hoping she'd confide him, now it seemed like every conversation since then was an emotional minefield where she looked for hidden meaning in any comment he made.

And he wasn't _always_ right, but right at that moment, when he read those words "William Alan Towne, died August 19, 1950", for the briefest of seconds, he wished he was wrong this time. He wished he could have pretended not to have seen it, but this wasn't one of their usual jokey disagreements over something silly, this was a national security crisis, and when he let out that groan of disbelief, she was on him in a second.

"What's the matter?

"I just found something I don't think we were looking for." He pointed to the entry, outlining the death of a two-year old Will Towne and watched her sag in defeat as he explained the con.

"I'm sorry, Amanda, but Will Towne is not who he says he is." If he could have done anything to wipe that look of defeat off her face, he would have done it in a heartbeat.

The drive back was almost as silent, although not as frigid. Once they reached the highway back to Washington, he reached over to squeeze her hand and she squeezed back, but never looked at him. She was still staring out the window but it was like a fire had gone out, leaving just a shell. When they pulled back into the Agency parking lot, neither of them moved for a moment and then she took a deep breath and went to open the car door.

"Amanda, wait."

She stopped and waited, but she was still staring out at the wall in front of the car instead of at him, and she'd stiffened up, as if she was getting ready for whatever "I told you so" was coming.

"I'm sorry about earlier. I shouldn't have said it that way."

She slumped a little in the seat and sighed. "No, you were right. All the evidence said you were right and I just didn't want to believe it."

"Well, that may be true but that's not what I meant." She finally looked at him, or at least stole a glance sideways briefly. He turned so that he was facing her more and put his hand out to touch her arm. "I meant, I shouldn't have said what I did in the elevator. That wasn't fair and you were right to be angry about it." She bit her lip and he knew a lot hinged on whatever he said next. "It's just that, well, I was worried about you. I know Claudia's been helping you through everything, but you won't really talk to me about it anymore…"

"Well, it's not really something I want to talk about," she interrupted. "I don't want being raped to be some kind of defining thing about who I am!"

"No, no, I get that," he said patiently. "It's just that you're swinging around a bit emotionally and…" Her eyes flashed and he stopped. "Oh God, this is all coming out wrong." He tried again. "I'm worried that you're going at this emotionally instead of professionally because you think you need to prove something to me, or to yourself maybe. And yes, I know I've done the same thing so you don't even need to start pointing that out to me, okay?" He smiled a bit at the way she'd opened her mouth to do just that and then closed it again when he'd beaten her to it. "But you really don't need to prove anything – your gut feelings are as good as mine any day of the week, usually better actually, and there isn't an agent alive who hasn't gone out on a limb because of a feeling about something and sometimes it works out and sometimes it doesn't. It doesn't mean you're a bad judge of character because Towne fooled you – for all we know, the Russians planted him years ago and he's had time to perfect the character. Hell, we don't even know if his wife is in on it – she might be an innocent victim in all this too!"

Amanda looked at him fully now, horrified. "Do you think so? She loves him so much – could she have no idea what he really is?"

He shrugged, relieved that at least now she was talking to him properly again. "It's possible – there are always stories kicking around of sleeper agents embedded when they were kids, acting like perfectly normal American families, just waiting to be activated. Then again, her name's Sonia right? Maybe there's Russian connections that would show up on her background check but not his."

"You think it could really be something like that?" she asked, doubt tinging her tone.

"It could be – we've seen crazier schemes, haven't we?"

"Yeah, I guess we have." She still sounded sad, like she'd lost a friend.

"On the upside, if our friends in Moscow really do have one of our guys, now we have someone to trade for them," he offered.

"That doesn't seem like much of an upside to me right now," she sighed.

"No, I suppose it doesn't" he agreed. "But Amanda? I am sorry that I said what I said earlier, or at least the way I said it. So can you forgive me and declare a truce before we have to go back and tell Billy what we found?" He held out a hand for her to shake and she took it without hesitation, squeezing it and holding on.

"You're forgiven. And I'm sorry too – I said some pretty mean things in front of Billy and I didn't mean them either – I was just upset that you weren't listening to me." She gave a little laugh. "If I hadn't been so mad, it would have been kind of nice."

"Kind of nice? How does that even make sense?"

Amanda stared down at where she was still clasping his hand. "Well, it was like we were back to normal a bit. Ever since I told you… you know, about what happened… you've been tiptoeing around me like you thought I was going to break or something. Which is silly because even though you only just found out, for me, it was over a year ago and I've been fine all that time, or mostly fine at least, so you treating me with kid gloves made me feel like I'd made a mistake telling you." She gave him a quick glance as he started to protest. "I remember how it was when we first met and how you'd never talk about how you really felt about things, but then you let me in and let yourself lean on me a bit... but it was kind of one-sided because I hadn't done the same. And then I thought we were finally at a point where it would be better if we didn't have any secrets and instead it's just been _awful_. You don't talk to me like I'm _me_ anymore – you use that polite voice you use with witnesses when you're trying to be soothing."

Lee winced – he knew the voice she meant but hadn't realized he'd been doing exactly that.

"I even took over your office on purpose with all my paperwork because I thought if I was around all the time, you'd get sick of trying to be careful and start treating me like normal but it just bothered you more and then you said Billy was just humoring me instead of seeing that I was doing my best to be normal again."

Her breath hitched a bit and he flushed guiltily, realizing just how hurt she'd been by that off-hand comment.

"So when you started yelling at me, it was like you forgot for a second that you thought I was fragile and maybe we were going to get back to how we were." She looked at him briefly. "And then you ruined it by making it sound like I was just trying to be right because I was afraid," she finished with a sigh.

"I really didn't mean that," he admitted. "I was just so worried that you were going to damage your career for all the wrong reasons and it came out of my mouth before I could stop it. And you're right – I have been treating you differently because I was angry about what happened to you and I didn't have anyone to take it out on and now I've ended up taking it on you. It was dumb."

"Well, if you want to know how you rate for fighting dirty, I'd have to say very high," she said wryly.

Lee chuckled. "That's fair." He laughed and added, "God, it's so different fighting with you. Andy and I used to have way worse fights but there was a lot more shoving. We almost had a fist fight in the break room one time but we still managed to get over it and go home together at the end of the day."

The laughter gurgled out of her at the mental image. "Gosh, can you imagine the office gossip if we went home together at the end of the day?"

There was a beat where they both pictured that, both suddenly flushing and unable to meet the other's eye.

"Right, well, we should go find Billy," said Lee, clearing his throat and turning to get out of the car.

"Yes, right, Billy," stammered Amanda, moving equally fast to climb out of a Corvette that suddenly seemed a lot smaller than normal.


	10. Healing Fractures

It had all made so much sense back in the car when Lee explained it, the way the con worked, the way Will could have been taught to fool her. All the evidence was on Lee's side and yet, faced with Will Towne again in that interrogation room, she just couldn't shake the feeling that there was something terribly wrong with what they were doing.

Sure, maybe the flicker of panic in his eyes was because he knew he was caught, but it didn't seem like it. His laughing off their evidence of his 'death' with a Mark Twain joke had more of a ring of disbelief, like a guy who honestly thought they were kidding. He seemed to really think that this was all going to get cleared up if he could just get one person to believe him and he'd seized on her – the person with the least authority to help him at all, which surely he wouldn't have done if he'd been a real spy. She could see Lee getting exasperated as the interview went on, but she just knew she was doing the right thing – with everything that was riding on this, they had to be 100% certain.

She scolded Lee about his "football" crack as they went to join Billy.

"That was unnecessary!" she hissed. "There is no reason to treat him like that!"

"I thought we were doing good cop, bad cop," he protested. "But you are taking this good cop thing way too far!"

"Well, I'm still not sure he did any of it!"

"Oh Amanda, not this again!" She watched him almost literally bite his tongue to keep himself from starting another fight with her before they arrived where Billy was waiting and Lee launched into his theory about Will's supposed treachery.

When she spotted the MSG on the ingredient list a few minutes later, it really was like someone had torn away the last bit of gauze from her eyes and then to her delight, she watched the tumblers clicking into place for Lee too. It was the final piece; all the other little problems with Will's behavior could be waved aside individually– like pushing the pull door or seeming not to realize at first that the piano player really thought he knew him, but collected together, it was so clear. Whoever had set him up had spent a lot of effort getting the big picture right, but they couldn't have realized the avalanche effect of too many pebbles of behavior that were just too out of character - spy or not, Will Towne would not have made an error twice in two days that had dire consequences for his wife. The Russians had counted on people seeing only the obvious and making it easy for them to set up a fake trade – and they'd almost done exactly that. She was still mulling over the implications of that when she heard Lee speaking.

"Our Agent of Record caught it." She thought her heart might actually burst at the smile he was giving her and she could almost have cried from equal parts pleasure and relief. She thought maybe it was the same for Lee – that they'd both been harboring doubts about whether or not to trust her bad feeling on this one – he looked equally thrilled that it really looked like she'd been right.

It had been _so_ great to be back on the old footing - and then Billy had handed them that Polaroid of Francine looking bruised and miserable in an Afghan cell somewhere and everything good in the day had vanished. She felt the color drain from her cheeks and looked at Lee who looked equally horrorstruck and confused.

"What the hell is she doing in Kabul? She's supposed to be in Cairo!"

She knew how Lee felt; it had to be another trick, another doppelganger, a fake photo of some kind. They couldn't have figured out the whole plan and still be faced with a terrible choice. She looked from the photo, still clutched in Lee's white knuckled fingers, back at Billy as he asked, "So how do we get her back? Thanks to your good work we don't have anybody to trade for her anymore!"

Her heart sank further. _All my good work_.

She looked over to meet Lee's bleak expression and knew he was thinking the same thing – just for a second, they had both wondered whether they couldn't just hand Will Towne over to the Russians anyway.

She shook herself, inwardly horrified that she'd even had that thought. "We have to find Wally Tuttle," she said firmly. "And I think I know where to start."

* * *

"No, no, no, no, no, no!"

It was all she could hear Francine yelling as they dove behind the ambulance pushing her gurney in front of them

"It's okay, Francine, we have you! It's all good!" Amanda was racing to undo the straps alongside Lee.

The second Francine's hands came free, she reached up and grabbed Amanda, pulling her down.

"No, you don't understand! It's a trick. Gregory's pulling something! You shouldn't have made the trade! You have to stop them!"

Lee finished with the strap around her legs and grabbed her hands, peeling her fingers away from where they were gripping Amanda's blouse. "Francine, it's okay! We just gave them some low level schnook of their own – it's fine."

Francine ignored them as she let Amanda help her to a sitting position grabbing her arm again, still babbling. "No, it's not fine. He had some plan – I heard them talking but they don't know I did. There's two guys, not one." She shook her head violently as if trying to clear it of fog. "I don't know what he's getting out of it but he was way too happy for this trade – it has to be a trick!" she wailed.

Amanda loosened Francine's death grip on her arm and wrapped her in a hug. "Yes, it was a trick but we double crossed him. He didn't get the guy he wanted, not even close." She squeezed her closer as Francine sagged with relief. "But we did!"

She looked up and beamed at Lee, who was grinning with glee that their counter scheme had worked, then glanced over at Will Towne who was standing bent over, hands on his knees, looking like he might be sick. She motioned with her head for Lee to come take her place beside Francine, then walked over and put her hand gently on Will's back.

"Dr. Towne? Are you okay?" She took his arm and led him over to the back of the ambulance, to sit down in its open doorway. "That was so brave of you, I can't even begin to tell you how grateful we are that you helped us get our friend back."

He lifted his head and squinted at her. "Your friend? Not an agent?" He reached for his glasses in his jacket pocket, fumbling to put them on.

"Oh well, she's an agent too, but mostly she's our friend," explained Amanda. Towne looked over to where she was gesturing, to the gurney where Lee was holding Francine in his arms. Francine had the heels of her hands pressed into her eyes as if she was trying to hold back tears of relief and Lee's chin was resting on her head as he talked quietly to her.

"Huh. He doesn't look like so much of a tough guy now," commented Towne grumpily.

"Well he's a very tough guy when he has to be," Amanda said in Lee's defense, "But yeah, he can be kind of a marshmallow sometimes too. Francine too"

"Sounds like good friends to have."

"The very best," agreed Amanda, watching the pair fondly. "Now, speaking of best friends, how about we go call Sonia and tell her you're ok?"

* * *

Only Amanda, he thought, would organize a thank-you lunch, with way too much Chinese food, to pave the way for apologizing to the Townes, but then again, every time he'd seen Francine for the last twenty-four hours, she'd been eating, so perhaps it wasn't such a crazy idea after all.

" _Ugh – I picked up a bug the first day they took me and couldn't hold anything down for three days. But now I'm starving all the time. Do you think I should get Doc Kelford to run a test and make sure I didn't pick up a worm or something? Are you going to finish that muffin?"_

_Lee had handed her the half-eaten muffin wordlessly despite having watched her just demolish two Danish not five minutes before._

" _Francine, how about you and I go pick up some lunch while Lee fetches Mr. and Mrs. Towne out of their debrief and we can go and sit quietly and eat?" Amanda had given him an eye roll over Francine's shoulder as she turned her from pawing through the break room fridge, and mouthed "Go!" at him._

" _As long as it's upstairs and there's windows. I've had enough of being underground to last me a lifetime."_

" _Well then, how about coming with me to the Chinese takeout place two blocks over? We can walk there and you can help me pick out what you want."_

" _Amanda, you sound like that dog lady on TV, trying to take me walkies! Fine, I'll go with you, but only because I know I can get an egg roll to eat on the way back."_

"Are there any more snow peas? No? Okay, I need to go get a candy bar."

He couldn't help looking at Amanda, biting the inside of his cheek when he saw that she was a hair's breadth from bursting out laughing as well. A wave of contentment washed over him as they saw the Townes out of the Q Bureau. There'd been something about the way they'd fought on this case, and made up, that had finally broken the uneasiness that had started to build up between them. She'd been right yesterday in the car – he'd been treating her differently, trying to step back to give her room to breathe and all it had done was make her think he was distancing himself from her. It wasn't until she'd called him on it that he'd seen it – that he should have seen her genuine enthusiasm for her assignment for what it was – proof that she was still perfectly capable of doing her job, a job she was good at, a job she _loved_ – only to have him turn around and try and make it sound like unimportant busy work from Billy. No wonder she'd been so ready to fight with him.

He could tell she was having a hard time keeping a straight face even now as she teased him that she'd always known Towne wasn't KGB and he tried to explain away his reluctance to go along with it with a nonsensical philosophical discourse on knowledge.

_Most of the time we only think that we know… …Therefore, I can't really know you too well._

He should have known he was headed into a trap by the way her eyes had lit up with mischief as he rambled.

"Exactly my point."

Lee had just started to answer when she held out the chopsticks and popped something into his mouth. He chewed slowly, realizing too late that it might have been a hot pepper or something. He relaxed slightly as he bit down on what turned out to just be a chunk of pork, but not before hearing that smothered gurgle that told him she'd known exactly what he was thinking.

 _She knows me too well_.

He hid a grin at that thought and turned the question on her instead. "What's exactly your point?"

"That after all this time you should know me well enough to be able to say you know me well, not that you have no way to know me because you can only think that you know me."

"Well, at the very least, I know a black belt confuse-athon when I hear one," he responded, warmed by the husky chuckle he'd elicited and charmed by the poked out tongue that followed it.

This is what he'd been missing most the last little while, he realized, the easy back and forth of private jokes and smiles he'd come to rely on. She'd barely reacted when he sat on the cactus the other day – why hadn't he seen then that her edginess had all the signs of that old flight reflex? No matter – what he could see now was how brightly she was shining, buoyed by the success of the mission. She might complain he'd been the one treating her like damaged goods but in retrospect he could see that she'd been quick to anger over his attitude because she was second-guessing herself too. The only good thing that had come out of all of this was that when someone's else life had been on the line, it had been her fight reflex that came out on top.

He carried on in the same teasing tone. "And yet, impressive as that speech was, I still don't know _exactly_ what _exactly_ your point was."

Amanda had turned and was starting to tidy away the plates and empty take-out containers.

"Well, it's perfectly simple – if you really feel you don't know me well, you must not have been paying attention because I'm not really all that hard to know."

"Oh, that is so not true!" he said vehemently. "You blindside me every other day with something!"

She stopped for a moment to consider his laughing protest. "Well, I shouldn't be able to," she finally said, her dimples peeking out suddenly. "Not if you were really a _good_ spy."

Lee began helping her clear the table, watching her thoughtfully as she moved quietly around the room, the same way he'd gotten used to her moving around his apartment that week she'd looked after him. He'd thought he'd known her pretty well before then, but she'd surprised him over and over even in just those few days. He'd been certain she would irritate him with chatter and mothering; instead she'd been comforting and intuitive. He'd thought she was defenseless; instead she'd revealed a hidden strength to withstand the unthinkable.

 _You're right, I should get to know you better_.


End file.
